


the befuddlement draught

by yellowmarshmallow



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarry, Hogwarts Fifth Year, In a way, M/M, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Potions Accident, seriously these boys just need a hug, sirius and remus are a married couple, the dursleys are awful and dumbledore what the heck were you thinking, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:42:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26328079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellowmarshmallow/pseuds/yellowmarshmallow
Summary: "These plants are most efficacious in the inflaming of the brain, and are therefore much used in Confusing and Befuddlement Draughts, where the wizard is desirous of producing hot-headedness and recklessness…"Harry didn't mean to shout about the Dursley's to the entire class, but he didn't expect Malfoy, of all people, to be concerned about him afterwards.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 54
Kudos: 341





	1. chapter one

The snow was yet to melt over the grounds of Hogwarts, dampening everyone’s post-Christmas mood – which no one thought could get any lower with the return of Umbridge’s Defence lessons. No one was seen in the corridors without a hat and scarf, and friend groups huddled in front of any available heat source. Fred and George had tried to lift peoples spirits with an impromptu snowball fight that almost got the entire school involved, but Professor McGonagall swiftly put a stop to it when Lee and Fred created a snow canon that George then levitated around the battlefield, hitting all unsuspecting students with a blizzard of snowballs – she said it was due to safety concerns, but Harry suspected she didn’t want to give Umbridge an excuse to expel them.

Despite the snow, Harry wished he could fly around on his firebolt, but as it was under lock and key, that wasn’t possible. He didn’t regret punching Cassius Warrington (in fact, he hoped he had broken Warrington’s nose), and he knew Fred and George didn’t either, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to play Quidditch. Flying had always been a way to calm his nerves or clear his head, and now he had this insatiable, burning itch in the back of his mind. He wanted to hear the whistle of the wind, feel the tingling sting on his face as he raced through the sky.

He sighed, focusing his attention on Ron, who looked as if he wanted nothing more than to set himself on fire.

“Merlin, it’s bloody cold,” Ron complained as the trio made their way into the dungeon to the Potions classroom. “I’m glad we only have Potions down here,” he said, rubbing his hands together to keep warm.

Harry nodded, shivering at the lack of heat. He wished he could skip Potions and curl up in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room. As much as he hated Snape, and the cold, Hermione would have his head if he even voiced that he was genuinely considering skipping a class during the year of their OWL’s. “Can’t wait to not only be cold, but have to deal with Snape for two hours,” Harry grumbled, already in a foul mood due to Umbridge’s lesson previously.

“It’s the worst,” Ron agreed, catching Harry’s foul mood as if it were contagious.

Hermione shook her head at the two boys. “Honestly, you two are useless,” she muttered, pulling her wand from out of her robes. “ _Velamen Concalesco_ ,” she said, pointing her wand at the two. Harry instantly felt a warmth spread through his body and sighed in relief; Ron had a similar reaction.

“Bless you ‘Mione,” Ron smiled, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Hermione rolled her eyes, her face heating up. “Well, if either of you paid attention in charms, you’d realise we learnt that warming spell last Tuesday,” she scolded.

“I was paying attention!” Ron insisted, making Harry raise an eyebrow at his friend. Harry remembered that lesson, and he knew neither of them were listening to Professor Flitwick, but rather they were talking about plans for the DA. “I was! But ‘Mione, not everyone masters a spell that quickly, you’re just bloody smart.”

Harry left the two to their squabbling as his mind drifted again, this time to Sirius. Over the Christmas break, Sirius had spoken to Harry about the Ministry’s involvement at Hogwarts. He was concerned about the lack of secrecy their letters held, and how dangerous it would be if someone were to intercept these letters. Harry had no doubt that the Ministry would gladly invade student’s privacy by reading their letters, but he wondered if Sirius was spending too much time around Moody, screaming about ‘ _constant vigilance’_. Either way, they had decided that anything important would be discussed via the Mirror and pseudonyms would be used when writing letters, just in case.

Once they reached the door to the Potions classroom, Harry noticed that everyone was huddled together to keep warm and he bit back a smile when Hermione muttered about how everyone learnt the same spell. However, Harry saw that Malfoy was standing apart from everyone else, looking unfazed by the temperature of the corridor, most likely because he too used the spell to keep warm. Harry scowled at how unbothered Malfoy looked. He didn’t know why, but seeing Malfoy leaning against the wall with a grace only ever presented _by_ Malfoy himself, made Harry unreasonably angry. As much as Harry didn’t want to admit it, Malfoy looked annoyingly handsome – Harry cursed at himself for even letting that thought into his mind.

“Do you think Snape’s going to be in a bad or awful mood today?” Ron asked Harry with a nudge, forcing him to look away from Malfoy.

Harry shrugged. “Either way it’s going to be torture,” Harry sighed with a smile. “At least we sit next to each other,” he grinned at Ron who grinned back.

“We’ll fail Potions together mate,” he confirmed with a nod and the two chuckled. Hermione looked mortified.

“Neither of you will fail Potions,” she shook her head. “I’ll force you to revise until you pass.”

“Come on ‘Mione, I’m practically a lost cause,” Ron groaned making Harry bite back a laugh. It was true, Ron’s worst subject at the moment was Potions, which was saying something with Umbridge as the Defence teacher.

“Well, maybe you should actually put in the effort?” Hermione suggested with a small smile.

“It’s not my fault Snape’s a vile, evil git,” Ron muttered, and this time, Harry couldn’t resist his urge to laugh, making Hermione glared at the both of them.

Thankfully for Ron, the door opened _after_ his comment about Snape and everyone flooded into the room. There was an unheard groan when the classroom was somehow colder than the corridor, and despite Hermione’s warming charm, he could still feel the change in temperature. They took their usual seats at the back of the classroom and began to set up the basics.

The dread that Harry had been feeling all day was at its peak. They were going to be brewing a Befuddlement Draught, a potion which makes the drinker reckless and hostile and, knowing Snape, Harry would at some point, be forced to try one of the potions. He was not looking forward to seeing just how reckless this potion made you – what if he mentioned Sirius? Or the DA? He hoped it wasn’t going to be as bad as he was imagining.

Snape’s cloak swept across the floor as he turned to face the class. “If your Befuddlement Draught appears to be correct, you will test the Draught on either yourself, or a fellow classmate,” Snape said, his eyes lingering on Harry for longer than he liked. “Follow the directions _exactly_ , any deviations will be an automatic fail.”

Harry sighed, knowing that Snape would find some way to fail his potion, no matter what it looked like, even if he followed the directions exactly.

Even so, he spent the lesson trying to drown out Snapes snide commentary about his skills in Potions. “Mr Potter, you need to _fine_ grind the sneezewort,” he sneered, glancing at what he was doing.

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but Ron stamped on his foot and shook his head, waiting until Snape had passed on before leaning over to Harry. “It’s not worth it mate, you’ve already got months of detentions with Umbridge, we can’t have you missing DA” Ron whispered, shooting Harry a small smile. “If you could do it without getting a detention, I’d let you hex him,” he added, making Harry smile back. Ron was right, and so Harry held his tongue for the onslaught of comments Snape made, clearly trying to rile him up at this point.

However, by the time he had brewed his potion, Harry could not only taste blood from biting the inside of his cheek, but he most definitely had a bruised foot from the amount of times Ron had to remind Harry to not give Snape the satisfaction of a reply.

Surprisingly, Malfoy hadn’t joined in on Snape’s commentary, which only put Harry on edge. He had glanced over at Malfoy a few times out of curiosity (expecting that the lack of snide comments was due to silent death stares) but he saw that Malfoy looked almost bored with the lesson, and was just staring at his own potion as it boiled, as if expecting something miraculous to appear.

When Snape appeared to judge his potion, Harry shouldn’t have been surprised when Snape’s nose upturned, and he cleared the cauldron without any further inspection. “It seems that even celebrities can’t tell the difference between scurvy grass and sneezewort,” he sneered, a smirk appearing on his face, making Harry’s stomach drop. “Perhaps you mistook them on purpose Mr Potter? To avoid testing the potion. After all, it’s a _rudimentary_ mistake,” Snape continued, earning a few sniggers from the other side of the classroom where the Slytherins resided. “You can test Miss Grangers potion, after a blatant attempt to avoid it.” Harry glared at Snape, wanting to tell him where he can shove his comments, but Ron stomped on his foot, yet again.

“Don’t,” Ron hissed, knowing that if Harry wasn’t careful, he wouldn’t have any time for the DA and his schoolwork.

Snape headed over to Ron’s potion and sneered. “Ten points from Gryffindor Mr Weasley, it’s clear you never even read the instructions on the board,” Snape said, barely even glancing in Ron’s cauldron before emptying it – it was now Harry’s turn to stomp on Ron’s foot.

Muttering a string of angry curse words, Ron began cleaning his cauldron as Hermione shot Harry a sympathetic look. Harry knew he had nothing to worry about when it came to Hermione’s potion skills, so at least he wasn’t going to be poisoned.

Only eight people (including Hermione) made a potion that Snape deemed worthy enough of testing. Each person brought a phial of their potion up to the front and drank its contents, before having to explain the sensations caused by the potion. Probably wanting to prolong his suffering, Snape had decided that Harry would be the last person to test a potion.

Before Harry had to try Hermione’s potion, Malfoy tested his own potion, which only made Harry more anxious as Malfoy explained what the potion felt like. He described it as being as if his mind had been disconnected from his actions. The idea of having no control over his action worsened Harry’s fears.

When it was Harry’s turn, he stretched his hands and took a deep breath before Hermione passed him the phial.

As soon as he was at the front of the classroom, Harry downed the potion, which tasted like burnt toast, and was pleasantly surprised when nothing happened. Then he wondered what it was that everyone else had felt after taking the potion.

“Well Mr Potter?” Snape said.

“I don’t feel any different,” Harry said, trying to figure out if he just hadn’t noticed a difference.

“Well then, being reckless must just be second nature to you Potter,” Snape commented with a smirk, a few sniggers were heard throughout the room. “Perhaps this is what happens if you grow up a celebrity, being waited on hand and foot.”

This was when that something in Harry, _snapped_. He suddenly felt all his anger and exhaustion at trying to peacefully deal with Snape for the past hour and a half resurface. “You’re right Professor I’m spoilt rotten,” he snapped. “It’s _really_ generous of the Dursley’s to let me have the _entire_ cupboard under the stairs to myself to sleep in. Next thing you know I’ll be making _ridiculous_ requests like being allowed to eat every day or have clothes that fit!” he snarled, his breathing shallow as his anger swelled inside of him like a balloon. “ _Really_ fucking pampered,” he said, glaring at Snape (who looked caught off-guard) as if he wanted the man to explode.

There was a sudden bang of glass shattering which snapped him back into reality. Harry realised what he just said, and that he told not only Snape, but the entire class.

He noticed that everyone, including the Slytherins, was staring at him in a mixture of shock and concern. Ron was standing, as if he were ready to pounce, prepared to fight, and prepared to drag Harry out of the classroom if he needed to. Hermione’s eyes were darting between Harry and the door, as if she were calculating the risks of grabbing him and running out of the door.

However, they didn’t need to; Harry was already halfway out the door when he realised what he’d done.

The sound of his footsteps on the stone floors echoed through the corridor, only just audible past the blood pounding in his ears. The longer he walked, the more his anger dissipated and turned into panic and frustration. He knew the potion was going to make him reckless, but what he just did was practically suicidal.

He expected Hermione, or Ron to come after him any minute and he wasn’t sure he could face either of them, so he just kept walking, wanting nothing more than to get as far from the Potions classroom as he could. He hadn’t told anyone the truth of his home life with the Dursley’s, although Ron and Hermione probably had speculations. It wasn’t as if he had tried to hide it, but no one had ever brought it up in conversation and with the onset of an actual war, it seemed like a trivial matter. He knew that if he mentioned it, Sirius would help him out and make sure he never had to return to the Dursley household, but he also knew that Sirius would head over to the Dursley’s house to ‘ _have a word’_ and Harry didn’t want to risk Sirius’ freedom.

Making a sharp left into an empty classroom on the floor above the dungeon, Harry suddenly felt all his anger, his confusion, his hurt, swell inside of him as he slammed the door shut. He quickly cast a muffling charm and began to scream, releasing all of his pent-up magic in the process, smashing a few desks and chairs. He continued to scream in frustration until his throat felt raw and scratchy.

It wasn’t until he heard a creak from the door hinges that he realised he never locked it.

“Merlin Potter.” It was Malfoy, which only increased his unstable emotional state. “Right, well I don’t have a death wish,” he muttered, pulling the door to as he hopefully, turned to leave. Harry couldn’t tell for sure, as he was facing in the opposite direction.

However, instead of hearing the click of the door closing, Harry heard a sigh. “This bloody potion,” Malfoy muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Harry to hear. Harry could hear the door opening again and span around to see Malfoy standing in the doorframe, looking as if he didn’t have a care in the world, but his eyes were filled with concern, and looked misplaced on Malfoy’s face. “Potter, I know I’m the last person you will want to see at the moment, but I recommend you talk to someone. Someone who could help with your, unstable state,” he said, going to close the door once more.

“Stay,” Harry said, despite only moments ago wanting Malfoy to leave. Maybe the potion was somewhat to blame. He saw Malfoy raise an eyebrow and he groaned. “I’m not too keen on destroying a classroom Malfoy.”

“You’d rather take it out on me then?” Malfoy asked, raising his eyebrow even further. “Potter, did you not hear me when I said I don’t – “

“No! I just – I’ll be less likely to destroy _anything_ if someone is around and I highly doubt anyone _else_ is,” Harry explained, running his hand through his hair instinctively. He knew that if Malfoy was the one who was searching for him, Ron and Hermione had been forced to stay in the classroom, and with everyone else in classes, Malfoy was the only person keeping him from quite literally blowing up the classroom he was in.

Malfoy’s expression returned to its usual bored demeanour. “I guess if it stops you from killing someone,” he shrugged, closing the door as he stepped into the room.

Harry felt another scream bubbling in his throat at the accusation. Now he wasn’t sure that he would be able to stop himself from punching Malfoy, much less destroying the classroom. “I wouldn’t kill anyone,” he growled, directing his wand at Malfoy.

Malfoy didn’t even flinch. “Tell that to those chairs,” he said, gesturing to the splintered remains of a few of the chairs he had exploded. “Accidental magic is dangerous past childhood Potter, and after what you did in the classroom –“

“In the classroom? What did I do?” he asked, part of him hoping he had done to Snape what he did to Aunt Marge.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t notice? You shattered all the glass phials, and a few bottles too,” he said, as if describing the weather. “Quite impressive actually, though I’m – “

“ _Why_ are you here?” Harry asked, unable to stop himself from interrupted Malfoy.

Malfoy stared blankly at Harry, as if he had been caught red handed stealing from Snapes personal store cupboard. He sighed before he spoke. “The same reason you are,” he said, and Harry raised his eyebrows, doubtful that Malfoy spent the first eleven years of his life sleeping in a cupboard. “Not the _family situation_ , you nitwit, drinking the potion.”

Harry made an ‘ _o_ ’ shape with his mouth. “But, why would that bring you here?”

“Because I ran after you, you bloody, insufferable git,” Malfoy snapped, his eyes widening when he realised what he said, and Harry felt himself blush. “For Merlin’s sake, I ran after you to make sure you weren’t going to do anything stupid,” he explained, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Harry felt the heat rise in his face for multiple reasons. “I wouldn’t have done anything stupid,” he said, frowning at the accusation.

“You had just told everyone you sleep in a cupboard, forgive me if I had doubts.” Malfoy drawled, and leaned against one of the few remaining desks opposite where Harry stood. Now that Malfoy had mentioned running after Harry, he could see a few stray strands of hair and Harry noticed his robes were noticeably dishevelled compared to the last time he had seen Malfoy.

Harry didn’t notice he was staring until Malfoy coughed, catching his attention. Malfoy’s cheeks were tinged pink. They sat in awkward silence for a few minutes, Harry shifting his weight from foot to foot as Malfoy became very interested in examining the walls. Harry was bewildered by the situation. He was in a classroom, with Malfoy, after drinking a potion that made him incapable of thinking things through, and made his magic just as reckless… The fact that they’d managed to have a half-decent conversation without threatening each other as well – the whole ordeal was bizarre.

“Aren’t you going to ask me about that?” Harry asked, watching for Malfoy’s reaction.

He blinked, “about what?”

“The cupboard,” Harry replied.

“I don’t expect we’d have the best heart to heart Potter,” Malfoy smirked, glancing back at Harry. “Besides, would you tell _me_ anything if I did?” he returned, raising an eyebrow.

Harry found himself smiling. “Probably not,” he chuckled. “I’m surprised you haven’t accused me of ‘ _attention seeking’_ though,” he said truthfully. He had become so accustom to people saying he was elongating the truth or just flat out lying, it surprised him when someone didn’t.

“Potter, I’m one of the last people who would accuse you of lying at the moment,” Malfoy said, his gaze unshifting from Harry who furrowed his eyebrows.

“What do you – _oh_ ,” he began, before realising Malfoy wasn’t talking about his outburst in the Potions classroom anymore. “Thanks, I guess,” he said, unsure of what his response should be. He knew what Malfoy was implying. His father was a Death Eater… but what was Harry supposed to say to that? ‘ _Sorry your dad’s in league with the lunatic who wants to kill me and most of the wizarding world, but thanks for not denying it’s happening, unlike the Ministry_.’

It was only when Malfoy began to speak again that he realised that’s exactly what he did say.

“You’re not the only one who doesn’t have the luxury of ignorance,” Malfoy sighed, rubbing his temples, as if that would remove the effects of the potion. “Salazar, I shouldn’t be talking about this, especially to you,” Malfoy said, looking less and less composed by the second.

“You don’t _have_ to be here,” Harry mumbled. “In fact, I still don’t really understand why you are here,” he said sceptically.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “If I was going to kill you Potter, I’d have done it by now,” he drawled, folding his arms.

“Doesn’t answer the question,” Harry pointed out, feeling his heart quicken as a smile appeared on Malfoy’s face instead of a sneer. “Why would you care if I did do something stupid?” he asked, and once again Malfoy looked like a deer in headlights.

“Believe it or not Potter, I don’t particularly care for my father’s ideology,” Malfoy said, regaining some of his composure.

Harry stared at Malfoy, his eyes scrutinising the other boys face for a hint of mistruth. “That’s not all is it,” Harry stated, blinking as Malfoy froze.

“You won’t like that answer,” he replied. He was incredibly still, like a statue or a Muggle portrait, displaying a calmness that his eyes betrayed him on as they darted from item to item, anywhere except Harry, who was staring holes into Malfoy as he stood before him.

Harry found himself, once again, thinking about how strange this all was. Normally when he had a conversation with Malfoy one of them said something to piss off the other and they’d be at each other’s throats within seconds. Yet, after taking a Befuddlement Draught, a potion which renders the drinker a reckless idiot, their response was to be civilised with each other. It made it seem as if the true impetuous act for them was to become friends.

Harry found himself taking a step closer to Malfoy. “I want to know,” he said, surprised at the lack of ferocity in his voice. He wasn’t demanding an answer, but encouraging Malfoy to tell him, something he had never done – although neither of them needed much encouragement to talk in this state.

But Malfoy only said two words, one phrase, “ _fuck it_ ,” before pulling Harry’s face to his and connecting their lips, shocking not only Harry but clearly Malfoy himself, who Harry suspected had never made a rash decision in his life.

Harry kissed him back. His mind completely blank. And the only thing he knew in that moment was that he wanted to kiss Malfoy, the pointy git who had been a thorn in his side since day one. Magic tingled in the air like static, making Harry’s hairs stand on end as the blood rushed to his head and his heartbeat was so loud, he was certain Malfoy could hear it too.

Later, he would curse himself for being disappointed when Malfoy pulled away.

The daunting realisation of his kiss with Malfoy must have shown on his face because Malfoy sighed. “I said you wouldn’t like it,” he smiled softly at Harry, his eyes expressing what his face refused to – sorrow. Harry had never been more confused in his life, even more than when he was eleven and he was told he was a wizard, but Malfoy _had_ to add to the confusion. “I hope you appreciate this,” Malfoy said, taking a deep breath. “Don’t trust Kreacher Harry, there are many Blacks he can listen to and he tends to have a habit of lying to anyone else.”

Malfoy smiled fondly at Harry, an expression that made Harry’s knees go weak, and lightly brushed his lips on Harry’s cheek. “I’m sorry.”

With those words, Draco Malfoy left Harry, gobsmacked, at a loss for words, and alone in a classroom. The effects of the potion were fading, and Harry felt his stomach drop. He had no idea whether the kiss added to his problems, or distracted him from the chaos he knew he would return to in the common room. The sudden reinstatement of a voice of reason was the only reason why he didn’t chase after Malfoy. However, Harry wanted to run after him and kiss Malfoy senseless, or maybe he wanted to yell at Malfoy for kissing him and leaving without an explanation, he was unsure which was more appealing.

Twenty minutes ago, if someone had told him that he would want to kiss Malfoy, it would have sent him into hysterical laughter. Although now, the faint memory his lips had of Malfoy’s made his heart skip a beat and his head spin.

Add the complications of Malfoy’s warning, and he felt as if his head were about to explode.

One thing Harry knew for certain; he was going to find out exactly why this just happened.

\-----

“Harry!” someone exclaimed as he stepped through the portrait to the Gryffindor common room, practically tackling him to the ground with a hug. “You never came back to the lesson and Snape, the evil bastard, he wouldn’t let us look for you,” Ron, the apparent assailant, explained, talking almost as quickly as Hermione, the worry etched into his face. “Then _Malfoy_ took off, Merlin knows why, and we tried to look for you after class but decided it would be better to wait here for you and – “ Ron’s words cut off as he released Harry from his grip. “Harry, why’d you never say anything?” Ron asked.

For a brief moment, Harry thought Ron was offended he had never said anything, but with one look at his friend’s face, he noticed that, that wasn’t it at all. Harry shrugged. “It didn’t seem important,” he said, not wanting to talk about it. “I have to talk to you two.”

“I’m so sorry Harry,” Hermione said as Harry dragged the two into the boys’ dormitory, which he knew would be empty. “You mentioned something before, but I had no idea it was so – “

“’Mione, it’s fine, really. I don’t want to talk about it all right?” he sighed, the backs of his eyes beginning to ache. “Besides, I have to tell you guys what happened after I left.”

Ron and Hermione exchanged worried glances, and Harry knew they wouldn’t leave it alone, but he was not in the mood or the right mindset to explain the faults in his childhood, and his mind was preoccupied with a kiss he had just had with a certain blond.

“I’ll – look, I’ll explain it to you some other time, I’m tired and I’d really like tell you about what just happened between me and Malfoy,” he stressed, hoping this would divert their attention for a bit, and it did.

“Malfoy!” Ron exclaimed. “He followed you?” he asked, looking as bewildered as Harry felt.

Harry nodded, running his hand through his hair. “I was sure he was going to taunt me or, Merlin, I don’t know, try to start a fight but he didn’t,” Harry said, his mind was yet to process everything that had happened, and he wasn’t sure he wanted it to.

“He didn’t?” Hermione asked, as if she thought Harry had misspoken or she’d misheard.

Harry shook his head. “It was so weird, but we actually had a conversation that didn’t make me want to hex the shit out of him,” _and then he kissed me and I didn’t hate it_ , he added in his head, but he wasn’t sure that was something he should tell either of them. Not only was Harry uncertain about his sexuality, but it was with _Malfoy_.

“It must have been the potion,” Hermione deducted, and Harry nodded in agreement whilst Ron still looked sceptical. “It lets you do what you normally would talk yourself out of.”

“It was definitely something he wouldn’t have done without the potion,” Harry muttered, still thinking about the kiss, before remembering what it was, he actually wanted to talk to Ron and Hermione about. “I mean – he kept mentioning how he shouldn’t be talking to me, and it was the potions fault and then,” Harry paused, puzzled by Malfoy’s warning. “He told me that Kreacher is loyal to _all_ Blacks and doesn’t have to tell the truth to those he’s not loyal to.”

Ron’s face exploded into a ray of emotions until he managed to blurt out, “the pointy git mentioned Kreacher? How would he even…?” he trailed off, looking questioningly at Hermione, who looked just as concerned.

“The fact that Malfoy would warn _you_ about Kreacher is concerning,” she said, looking lost in thought. “Do you think,” she began, before whispering, “do you think he _knows_ about Sirius?” she asked.

“I mean, his mother’s a Black, Sirius told me, so I’m not surprised he knows Kreacher exists.” Harry looked at Ron and Hermione, who looked at him expectantly. “But I don’t think it matters if he does,” Harry replied, seeing Ron raise his eyebrows in disbelief. Harry then told the two about the rest of the conversation, leaving out anything related to the kiss. “He seemed, reluctant, maybe scared, either way he was doing something he _knew_ could get him in a lot of trouble, and I think it would be the same if the Ministry got involved in his life.”

“Who would he get in trouble with?” Ron asked. “His dad? Not the scariest of blokes overall, is he?”

Hermione glanced at Harry, scanning his expression. Her eyes widened. “You mean You-Know – _Voldemort_?” she replied, and Ron’s eyes bulged out of his skull.

“Merlin Hermione, warning please,” he shivered, before realising what she just said. “Wait, a minute,” he looked at Harry for confirmation and Harry just sighed.

“I can’t be too sure, but with the way he was acting – Voldemort is involved, I know it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> velamen - latin for covering/ to cover  
> concalesco - latin for to become warm/ flush   
> velamen concalesco - a covering to become warm/ a warm covering


	2. chapter two

Malfoy was avoiding him.

Normally, this would have pleased Harry – in fact, a week ago, he would have given anything for Malfoy to leave him alone, but when he wanted to talk to the git, it was infuriating.

The only time Malfoy made any acknowledgement of his existence was when he was surrounded by other Slytherins, but even then, it was only a snarky look in his general direction. Harry was getting to the stage where he was considering consulting Ron on the matter, but he couldn’t see that conversation ending well – ‘ _So, I didn’t mention this before, but Malfoy kissed me and now I can’t stop thinking about him and I want to kiss him again but he’s avoiding me._ ’ That would end well…

Hermione had convinced him to talk to Sirius about the warning. She tried to convince him to talk about the Dursley’s too, especially as he wasn’t talking to either of them about the matter, but Harry refused and for the first time, neither Ron, nor Hermione pestered him until he complied.

He pulled the Mirror shard from the bottom of his trunk and called to Sirius, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding when Sirius picked up his end of the mirror, hearing Sirius fumble to grasp the mirror and trip over something, creating a loud _thud_.

“Hey Cub, is everything all right?” Sirius asked breathlessly, and Harry could just about see Sirius squinting to read Harry’s expression.

Harry shrugged, still chuckling at Sirius. “Same as usual, Umbridge is still a bitch – I mean, horrible person,” he added quickly.

Sirius laughed. “You don’t have to worry about swearing in front of me Cub,” he grinned. “But not too much, your father would have had my head if I let you swear too much,” he said, making Harry grin. He’d missed his Godfather. “So, is there any particular reason you called, or did you just miss your favourite Godfather?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “You’re my only Godfather Sirius.”

“That’s irrelevant,” Sirius said, waving a hand dismissively. “But that’s also exactly why I’m your favourite.”

“By that logic, you’re also my least favourite,” Harry replied, laughing as Sirius rolled his eyes.

“I can’t imagine you called just to insult me,” he said, looking at Harry expectantly.

Harry sighed and shook his head. “No, I need to tell you something.”

Harry told Sirius everything; he told Sirius about how he snapped in Potions (without mentioning _exactly_ what he said); he told Sirius about Malfoy’s strange behaviour; he told Sirius about the kiss and he told Sirius about Malfoy’s warning.

Sirius didn’t interrupt Harry as he explained what happened, therefore once Harry started talking, he couldn’t stop. It was only when Harry stopped talking that Sirius shared his thoughts.

“I’m not worried that he knows about Kreacher, Cissy has visited before,” he trailed off as Harry nodded.

“That’s what I told Ron but,” Harry ran his fingers through his hair.

“Why give you a warning about him,” Sirius finished, bringing his hand up to his mouth as he began to think.

Harry waited a moment before he said, “I think he overheard something.”

“That’s not entirely impossible,” Sirius said, leaning back in his chair. “And you said you’d both drank some Befuddlement Draught?” he asked, and when Harry nodded, he added, “so it wasn’t something he intended to tell you, but it _was_ something he wanted to.”

They sat in silence for a minute as Sirius gathered his thought. Harry began to play with the tassels on the ends of his curtains.

“But he gave you the warning _after_ he kissed you?” Sirius asked with an amused smile, making Harry blush.

He nodded, supressing a groan as Sirius’ smile widened. “It was so, weird,” he said, watching as Sirius nodded in understanding.

“Because it was Malfoy?” he asked, a knowing glint in his eyes.

Harry’s blush darkened. “Partially? I mean, it’s _Malfoy_ and I never expected to not want to strangle him when we’re in the same room but also,” he paused, unsure of how to phrase his next thought. “I’d never thought about kissing a guy before and now,” he trailed off, hoping Sirius would understand what he was saying.

“It’s all you can think about?” Sirius suggested and Harry let out a frustrated sigh.

“Yes!” he exclaimed, his face grimacing as he thought about what he just said. “And it’s Malfoy! Bloody _Malfoy_! With his stupid smirk and his perfect hair and I just,” he threw himself onto his bed.

Sirius was clearly supressing a laugh. “Look, I can’t say I’m pleased that you have a Malfoy on your mind all the time,” he said, and Harry felt his blood rush to his face “But, if his warning is real, and it _is_ a plan of Voldemort’s that he heard, then he risked a lot to tell you anything,” Sirius pointed out.

“But he’s a pretentious prat!”

“Who might have just given us valuable information,” Sirius added. “Is it possible this was him reaching out? That he might want to change for the better, but he isn’t in a position where he can?” Sirius said, and Harry opened his mouth to deny what Sirius said, but it made sense.

“I guess,” he muttered. “It would explain a lot.”

Sirius sighed with a smile. “You don’t have to forgive him Cub, and you can be confused about the kiss because I know I would be, but you should talk to him.”

“I’ve tried!” Harry groaned. “He’s always surrounded by other Slytherins and he’s never alone,” he said, remembering all the times he’d searched for him in the corridors and on the Marauder’s Map.

“He’ll be alone at some point. See if you can get him to elaborate his warning – if he heard anything else.” Sirius’ eyebrows furrowed, and it looked as if he was debating telling Harry something. “Have I ever told you about my brother?” he asked.

Harry shook his head. “You’ve mentioned him before but nothing else.”

Sirius nodded and frowned. “His name was Regulus,” he said, and Harry took note of the past tense. “We we’re incredibly close as kids, you’d rarely see us apart, but,” he paused, taking a breath. “When I went to Hogwarts, everything changed. I was in Gryffindor and a disgrace. When _Reggie_ went to Hogwarts, that was when I noticed him becoming everything I disliked about my family. He was Slytherin; he was prejudiced; he was stuck-up; he was a complete git actually,” Sirius chuckled.

“After I ran away, he became the heir to the ‘ _Noble and Most Ancient House of Black’_ , which meant he had to uphold the traditions.” Harry wondered why he was talking to him about this. “But he didn’t want to,” Sirius grinned.

“He didn’t?” Harry asked, surprised.

Sirius shook his head, his grin staying firmly on his face. “Told me so himself in my seventh year, he cornered me in-between lessons and told me everything. He pretended to be everything our parents wanted because he knew it would be bad if he didn’t. Then he told me that they expected him to take the mark,” he said solemnly.

Harry’s eyes widened. “How old was he?”

“14, almost 15,” Sirius replied, his sorrow turning into anger. “I was pissed, obviously, but Reggie told me he’d figure it out, like he always did,” Sirius’ face went blank. “I believed him, I thought he’d figure it out but, he didn’t,” Sirius trailed off, but Harry knew what that meant.

“He became a Death Eater,” Harry said, watching as Sirius rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Harry, one of my biggest regrets is that I didn’t help Regulus,” Sirius was staring intently at Harry. “He came to me with a cry for help and I ignored it.”

Harry knew what Sirius was telling him.

“I know you don’t like Malfoy very much, from what you’ve told me about him, I don’t either, but if he really wants a way out, if he wants to change…”

“I’ll talk to him,” Harry said firmly, knowing that if Sirius were right, Harry would be condemning Malfoy if he didn’t try to help.

Sirius smiled softly. “So back to this kiss, did you really enjoy it _that_ much?” Sirius teased and Harry buried his face in his pillow.

“Sirius!” he groaned, feeling the most embarrassed he’d ever felt.

“What? I’m your Godfather, I’m curious.”

They talked for a while after that. Harry bit back his laughter when Sirius complained about being cooped up inside but felt relieved when he heard that Remus visited often to keep him company.

A few days passed and Harry had started to notice Ron’s worried glances at Harry as his eyes scanned the corridors for Malfoy – not to mention he had been studying the Marauders map – Ron was certain that Harry was obsessing over his conversation with Malfoy to avoid confronting what he said in Potions – which Harry insisted wasn’t the case.

“Are you sure you’re all right mate?” Ron asked for the third time as they were sat in a corner of the common room playing exploding snap. “I know you say you are, and you say you don’t want to talk about it –“

“Ron, please, I don’t want to have to explain myself again,” Harry insisted with a sigh.

This didn’t appease Ron. “It’s just, clearly something is eating you up inside and,” he took a deep breath, shifting his sitting position. “You’re my best mate, I’m worried.”

“What do you want me to say Ron?” Harry snapped, glad for the loud buzz of activity in the common room. “That every summer I’m _starved_? If I even want to _glance_ at my _homework_ , I have to do all the chores and the gardening? That the reason I can’t sleep with the curtains closed around my bed is because it’s a _little too_ similar to my cupboard?” he said through his teeth. No one had noticed the outburst as George had decided it would be an excellent time to demonstrate a new product on Fred, which had the room laughing.

Ron stared at Harry, his face twisted and his eyes wide. “Harry, I –“

“I need some air,” Harry said, picking up his bags, he hadn’t had a chance to put them in the Boy’s Dormitory yet, and he didn’t want to leave them there.

Ron fumbled for his own bag. “I’ll come with you,” he said.

“Alone, please,” Harry reiterated, refusing to look at Ron.

“Oh, yeah – yeah o’ course,” Harry could hear the distress in Ron’s voice. “I’ll – um – I’ll be here if you – when you come back.”

With that, Harry stepped out of the portrait and into the corridor, with no idea where he would go, but he needed a break from Ron’s overwhelming pity.

He knew that both Ron and Hermione meant well, but if Dumbledore, who definitely knew about his treatment at the Dursley’s, insisted that he returned every year, then Harry was certain there was nothing his friends would be able to do to get him away from them.

When Harry knew he was alone, he took the Marauders Map out of his bag, and examined it for any signs of Malfoy.

His eyes darted around the Slytherin common room.

Malfoy wasn’t there.

He glanced at the kitchens and the Great Hall.

He wasn’t there either.

It was a while before he found Malfoy, tucked away at the top of the astronomy tower. His name paced around the tower, as if he were lost in thought.

Practically running to the tower, Harry made sure to keep glancing at the Map to check Malfoy was still in the tower. Thankfully, when he reached the stairs to the top of the tower, Malfoy’s name was still darting about the tower.

As the door was unlocked, Harry burst into the tower and stood by the door so Malfoy couldn’t run from him.

“We need to talk,” Harry said, jump-scaring Malfoy who snapped his head in Harry’s direction, before his second of fear was replaced by a sneer.

“What could we possibly have to talk about?” he taunted, raising an eyebrow as Harry frowned.

“Don’t play dumb with me Malfoy, I’m not in the mood,” he said, glaring at Malfoy’s smirk.

Malfoy leaned forwards towards Harry. “What’s got your knickers in a twist then? Fallen out with the Weasel?” he said, prodding at the open wound on Harry’s mind.

At first, he felt a swell of anger and regret. Why did he think this was a good idea?

But then he remembered that this was the first time in over a week Malfoy was talking to him, and he was acting like Malfoy normally did – which made Harry want to punch that smirk off the prick’s face but it was incredibly mundane compared to all his other interactions that week.

This made him smile, despite himself.

Malfoy’s smirk fell into a frown. “What are you smiling at?” he asked.

Harry’s smile widened into a grin and he began to laugh. “You’re insulting me,” Harry said once his laughter had died down, though Malfoy was looking at him as if he’d lost his grip on whatever sanity he had. “You almost had me worried,” he said, trying not to laugh again.

If Malfoy didn’t think Harry had lost his sanity before, he did now. “Potter, have you lost your mind? What are you even –“

“Did you seriously think I wouldn’t corner you at some point?” Harry asked, an eyebrow raised.

“I didn’t think you would be eager to see me,” Malfoy returned, folding his arms across his chest as he sighed. “Let’s get this over with then,” he said, looking as if he was bracing for an attack.

When nothing happened, Harry saw Malfoy open one of his eyes and take a peek at Harry, who hadn’t moved from his position but had his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at Malfoy. “What do you think I came here to do?” Harry asked.

Malfoy looked at him as if the answer were obvious. “Hex me, why else?”

Harry’s eyes widened as he tripped over his words for a response, running his hand through his hair. “Hex you? Why would I –?” he looked at Malfoy who shrugged before he continued. “You ambushed me in a classroom I had half destroyed, _kissed_ me, warned me about a bloody _house elf_ , and took off without further explanation!” he exclaimed.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow, leaning against one of the desks. “Your point?”

Harry pulled at his hair. “You can’t just –“ he bit back a frustrated cry and forced himself to look at Malfoy, who was leaning against the wall that framed an open air archway, an air of nonchalance surrounding him. “ _Why_? Why do any of it? And why tell _me_ anything about Kreacher,” Harry asked, refusing to take his eyes off Malfoy for a second.

Malfoy kept his calm demeanour, only further agitating Harry and raised an eyebrow. “That’s what you want to know? Why? Not how or whether it was a joke?” he asked, staring back at Harry with a similar intensity to Harry.

“That too,” he admitted, sighing.

Neither of them said anything for a moment, they just stared at each other, trying to figure out the others’ motives.

Until Malfoy cracked. “I thought the kiss would have made my reasons quite obvious Potter,” he sniffed, his face a light pink.

“Why would that –“ Harry’s words were interrupted by his thoughts as he realised what Malfoy was saying. “You _like_ me?” he squeaked, a blush creeping onto his face.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Merlin’s mother, you,” he muttered, rubbing temples. “You’re so incredibly dense,” he accused, refusing to look at Harry. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he mumbled, loud enough for Harry to hear.

“But I thought you hated me!” Harry exclaimed, still trying to wrap his head around this.

“Believe me, I wanted to,” Malfoy said, sighing. “I’ve learnt to accept it though,” he added, looking out of the tower.

“What do you mean, _learnt to_?” Harry exclaimed again.

“Salazar, you’re so _infuriatingly_ –“ Malfoy took a deep breath to keep his composure. “It means exactly what you think it means,” he scowled.

Harry couldn’t help himself, he laughed.

Malfoy’s scowl deepened. “If you’re going to mock me Potter, I’d rather you leave.”

“Sorry, sorry, I’m not mocking you, it’s just,” Harry grinned. “I always thought you hated me, and it’s pretty much the opposite.”

“Yes, I know, I have the worst luck,” Malfoy waved his hand dismissively, but Harry could have sworn he saw a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “It was easier to have you hate me,” Malfoy admitted, sitting on the edge on the tower.

Harry joined him, grinning at the bemused look Malfoy gave him as he did. “I didn’t and I don’t hate you,” Harry began, earning a raised eyebrow from Malfoy. “I certainly didn’t _like_ you, but I mean, there are people who want me _dead_ , so the blond git who insults my glasses doesn’t seem like the worst of my problems. You were more of a nuisance.”

“’ _Were_ ’?”

Harry hummed in contemplation. “ _Well_ , you still are a nuisance, but I think we’re in quite neutral territory at the moment,” he chuckled.

Harry had never seen Malfoy show as much emotion on his face as in that moment. “What does that mean?” Malfoy asked, staring at the horizon, watching the birds fly in the distance.

Harry shrugged. “It means there’s a chance,” he said, joining Malfoy in staring at the horizon.

They sat, watching the sun set over the hills, shivering from the cold – Harry hadn’t thought that part through when he followed Malfoy up the astronomy tower. The snow glistened as the light reflected from the sun, making it look like liquid gold. The edges of the Black lake were frozen, and Harry could see the ripples of water as the giant squid brushed across the surface. A few students were visible, wandering around the grounds, making snowmen, and throwing snowballs before the sun set.

“I overheard my parents talking about you,” Malfoy said quietly, pulling his knees up to his chin. Harry turned his head away from the view to look at Malfoy. “They’re careful with their words around me, so I don’t know much more than what I told you,” he said, looking up at Harry.

“What _did_ they say?” Harry asked, concerned.

Malfoy took a shaky breath and closed his eyes. “I can’t remember exactly, but they mentioned you, and Kreacher, and a link of some kind.”

That caught Harry’s attention. “A link?”

Malfoy furrowed his eyebrows. “Yes,” he said with a nod.

“Fuck,” Harry muttered, scrambling to his feet, and pacing the tower. “Fuck!” he exclaimed, causing Malfoy to flinch. “Anything else?” he asked, looking back at Malfoy, hoping there was more he could tell Harry.

“Something about a prophecy.” Harry furrowed his eyebrows at Malfoy who shrugged. “I didn’t exactly ask them to elaborate, I rather enjoy living,” Malfoy said, rolling his eyes.

“I didn’t even ask anything!” Harry defended, watching Malfoy sigh with a small smile.

“You were going to.”

“I – git,” Harry muttered, trying not to smile. He moved to stand opposite Malfoy and leaned against the wall. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet Potter,” Malfoy replied, wincing at his own thoughts. “There’s not much more I can tell you,” he said quietly, sounding sincere.

“But you didn’t have to tell me anything, so thanks for the heads up,” Harry said, offering a small smile to Malfoy who looked back at Harry as if he’d just suggested they try to grow wings.

“You’re always full of surprises,” he muttered.

“What can I say?” Harry shrugged, grinning as Malfoy rolled his eyes.

There was an awkward silence that fell between the two as they skirted around directly talking about the kiss. The light faded from the sky and the stars began to appear, covering the grounds in a silver light.

The two boys would sneak glances at each other when the other wasn’t looking, looking away before either of them realised what was happening.

With a timid glance at the sky, Malfoy cast a _tempus_. “It’s almost curfew,” he said, standing up.

“You know, if you ever need to talk,” Harry began, standing up to follow Malfoy down the astronomy tower.

“I don’t think I’m that desperate Potter,” he joked, smirking.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Prat,” he muttered, making Malfoy chuckle.

“But I’ll let you know, somehow,” he smiled, and Harry felt his heart skip a beat.

He nodded, his words failing him for a moment. “Thank you, Draco,” Harry said as they reached the door leading to the corridor.

Malfoy went bright red. “I – well – I don’t – I hope you win,” he said, stumbling over his words.

“Thanks,” Harry smiled, trying not to laugh. “I hope I win too if I’m honest, I rather enjoy living.” He grinned as Malfoy rolled his eyes.

“You’re insufferable.”

“But you like me,” Harry teased.

“Don’t remind me,” Malfoy complained, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Harry placed a hand on Malfoy’s shoulder. “You’re not that bad Malfoy.”

“I’m sorry I kissed you,” Malfoy blurted, looking horrified with himself before he composed himself again. “It was inappropriate and I instigated it without any consent from you so –“

“Draco,” Harry interrupted, instantly getting Malfoy to stop talking. “If I didn’t like it, you would know.”

“You liked it?” Malfoy asked, his voice raising an octave and a blush creeping across his face.

Harry froze, unable to respond with anything other than a nod. “Anyway, I’ll see you around,” he said quickly, reaching to open the door.

His hand stopped at the handle.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he used some of his Gryffindor bravery and turned to face Malfoy. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, his face feeling as hot as the sun.

He watched as Malfoy’s face displayed every emotion Harry could think of. “I mean – I wouldn’t say you _can’t_ ,” he chuckled nervously, and Harry raised an eyebrow at Malfoy. “Fine, Potter, yes. Merlin, you are the most annoy –“

His sentence was interrupted by Harry, who crashed their lips together. It was short and desperate, with Harry having thought of nothing else all week, but it was soft, and Harry felt his magic rush through his body.

As he pulled away, he saw Malfoy’s smirk and rolled his eyes instinctively. “I’ll see you around Draco.”

“I hope so, Harry.”


	3. chapter three

He should have known it wouldn’t stay secret.

Harry should have expected people to talk about his outburst.

Yet, here he was, staring at the front cover the Daily Prophet, a few weeks after his outburst, using his shitty excuse of a childhood to explain away his accusations about Voldemort’s return.

‘ _THE BOY WHO LIVED… LIVED IN A CUPBOARD!_ ’

Hermione tried to snatch it out of his hands as soon as she realised what the headline was, but Harry managed to get out of her reach as he read the headline again, and again.

“Don’t listen to them Harry,” Hermione insisted. Harry was still staring at the paper.

Ron reached out to place a hand on his shoulder, but faltered when Harry flinched, lifting the Daily Prophet in front of his face. He frowned. “Harry, mate, are you all right?”

Harry thought this was a ridiculous question. He was not all right. The entire of the wizarding world now knew he used to sleep in a _cupboard_ , of course he was not OK. “I’m fine,” he said through gritted teeth.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other, and then back at Harry, who was feeling incredibly claustrophobic. “Are you sure you’re all right?” Hermione persisted.

Harry nodded. “Perfectly,” he replied calmly, placing the Prophet down on the table before standing up. He knew half the Great Hall was also staring at him, along with his friends. “I’m going back to the common room, see you in a bit,” he muttered, not waiting for an answer as he walked out the Great Hall and down the halls, heading for the one place no one would find him – the Astronomy Tower.

Part of him hoped that Ron and Hermione would chase after him, but they didn’t.

As soon as he reached the Astronomy Tower, his breath became shallow and the room began to spin. He sat next to the door and tried his best to breathe but it was hard, he couldn’t focus on anything and his thoughts were racing out of control.

He hadn’t told Sirius anything about the Dursley’s. Sirius didn’t know a thing, and now he’s probably learnt about it from a newspaper. If Sirius did something reckless, it would be Harry’s fault, because he should have told his Godfather. What if Sirius went back to Azkaban for this? What if he tried to visit Harry at Hogwarts?

Harry felt sick and dizzy, his vision spotty. He knocked his glasses off as he pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, hoping that would fix his vision. He could just about hear the door opening and someone calling his name.

Then he thought about the Weasley’s, who had shown him nothing but kindness, who would now think he didn’t trust them because they didn’t know.

“Harry?” he heard the voice call again. He couldn’t see who they were because they left the door open. This meant they also couldn’t see him.

Mrs Weasley would be just as upset as Sirius and was probably wondering why Harry never told her anything.

“Harry!” he saw a flurry of blond hair and his mind went to his Aunt Petunia. He pressed himself further against the wall and raised his arms to cover his face. The blur of blond instantly froze, and instead of approaching Harry, they closed the door and sat in front of him. “Harry, it’s me, Malfoy.”

 _Draco_.

He relaxed his body, his breaths deepening slightly as he realised it wasn’t his aunt.

“I’m going to need you to take some deep breaths, do you think you can do that?” Draco asked, his voice calm and pleasant.

But what he was asking seemed impossible.

Harry shook his head, his chest beginning to ache.

“What about if I do it with you?” Draco asked. “All you need to do is breathe in for 4 seconds, hold for 7 and out for 8, can you do that with me?”

Harry didn’t know if he’d be able to, but he wanted to at least try, so he nodded.

“OK, just listen to my voice OK? Breathe in,” Draco said softly. “And out.”

Harry copied Draco, doing as he instructed until he no longer felt as if he was going to pass out and his breathing felt easier than before. He picked up his glasses and Draco was no longer a blurry blob.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice cracking. His throat felt sore.

Draco’s eyebrows furrowed. “Does that happen often?” he asked, his eyes scrunching up in concern.

“Not as much as it used to,” Harry replied, hugging his knees.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Draco edged closer to Harry, but didn’t touch him.

Harry shook his head. Then, only a second later he sighed and nodded. “I – I’ve never told _anyone_ ,” he said quietly, and Draco moved to sit next to him. Harry was glad that Draco knew what he was talking about.

“No even Granger and Weasley?” Draco asked, surprised.

“No one,” Harry said, sighing. “And then, I had that outburst in Potions and now it’s in the bloody papers and,” he paused, trying to control his breathing. “They can’t _fucking_ leave me alone,” he hissed.

Draco laced his fingers with Harry’s, silently telling Harry that he was there, and he would listen. Harry didn’t notice that he had moved closer to Draco, until their knees were gently touching.

“I don’t – I don’t want to go into detail – I _can’t_ –“ he stammered, and Draco squeezed his hand, rubbing his thumb over Harry’s to keep him calm.

“You don’t have to,” Draco assured. “We don’t have to talk at all if you don’t want to –“

“I want to!” Harry interrupted, a blush creeping up the back of his neck. “I want to talk, just…”

“Not about _that_ ,” Draco finished, resting his head against the wall. “Well then, you’ll be glad to hear that the Slytherin team is doing abysmally,” he sighed.

Harry felt a smile tug at his lips, relief flooding his body when he knew Draco wouldn’t push him for answers. “ _Draco Malfoy_ , are you talking shit about Slytherin?” he teased.

Draco elbowed him, still holding his hand. “I’m merely stating a fact,” he said, waving his free hand dismissively. “But one I thought might cheer you up.” Harry saw his smirk in the corner of his eye as he laughed.

“Thanks,” Harry smiled. Draco rolled his eyes.

“Don’t thank _me_ , _I_ can actually fly,” he said, and Harry snorted. “You disagree?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, his tone playful.

Harry shook his head. “I’ll admit, you’re a good seeker –“

“Wow, now I can die happy,” Draco muttered, his voice filled with sarcasm. “Harry Potter told me I’m a good seeker.”

“I can always take it back,” Harry said. Draco shrugged, smirking at Harry who rolled his eyes and continued. “ _You’re_ good, but your house seems to go for muscle over _actual_ skill.”

“That’s the issue,” Draco sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “They know _nothing_ about playing Quidditch and resort to foul play, which isn’t doing anyone any favours.”

“I’ve noticed,” Harry sighed, remembering Warrington.

Draco winced slightly. “What Warrington did was uncalled for,” Draco said, staring at the telescope in front of them.

“No shit,” Harry replied.

“No one agreed with him going that far Harry,” Draco said, sitting to look at Harry. “Taunting people is one thing, but to bring up, what he did –“

Harry sighed, shifting his position to look back at Draco. “It’s OK,” he muttered, and Draco looked at Harry as if he’d gone mad. “Well, it’s not at all OK and I still want to hex him for it,” he said, and Draco chuckled. “But what I _mean_ is, you don’t have to apologise for him just because he’s in your house,” Harry said, offering a smile which Draco returned.

“It was an arsehole move and he shouldn’t have done it,” Draco persisted, as if Harry hadn’t said anything at all.

“At least I punched him in the face,” Harry pointed out with a grin, making Draco laugh.

His laugh made Harry realise how close they were as he could feel Draco’s body shake.

“You broke his nose by the way,” Draco said. “I don’t know if anyone told you.”

Harry smiled to himself. “Thank Merlin, I had hoped I did,” he chuckled.

Once their laughter died down, they let the silence envelop them, the Prophets article forgotten as Harry’s mind was incapable of thinking about anything other than their close proximity. Harry felt Draco’s fingers gently brush against his skin, and he wondered if Draco knew they were still holding hands – though it seemed unlikely that he didn’t. They’d built a strange relationship over the past few weeks but it appeared that both boys were scared of what they had ending.

Harry didn’t know what possessed him to do it, but he placed his head on Draco’s shoulder, closing what little distance they still had between them. He closed his eyes and smiled, feeling the calmest he had for a while. He inhaled deeply, and could faintly smell lemons and cinnamon.

“You all right there Potter?” Draco asked, amused.

Harry hummed in response, shifting his position slightly to get more comfortable. “Potter again is it?” Harry teased.

“Merlin Potter,” Draco said, using his other hand to mess with Harry’s hair. “Your hair’s tickling my neck.”

“Oh, sorry,” Harry said, lifting his head from Draco’s shoulder to not make him uncomfortable.

Draco turned his head to look at Harry. “I never said to move,” he pouted, sounding both disappointed and as if the idea that Harry should move his head was blasphemous.

This set Harry off laughing. “You’re a confusing one Malfoy,” he replied, placing his head back onto his shoulder, purposefully shaking his head to tickle Draco’s neck.

“You’re insufferable,” Draco said, but Harry knew he was smiling.

“And you’re a prat,” Harry said back, a lazy grin on his face as he yawned.

Draco tilted his head towards Harry and prodded his shoulder. “Oi! Don’t fall asleep on me Potter, I have to go to at least one lesson today.”

Harry felt his stomach drop. “I’m sorry, you’ve probably missed all of first lesson because of me,” he said, shame washing over him as he spoke.

Draco squeezed Harry’s hand tight and turned to face him. “And I’d miss another lesson if I needed to,” he said, staring at Harry with a ferocity that rivalled Hermione’s. “Harry, you are _allowed_ to have bad days, you are _allowed_ to have someone _be_ there for you when you need the –“

Interrupting Draco, Harry tackling the blond in a hug, almost knocking him to the ground. “Thank you,” he said quietly, smiling as Draco got over his initial shock and hugged him back.

“Salazar you’re sentimental Potter,” Draco muttered, a small smile lighting up his features.

“My offer still stands by the way,” Harry said, making eye contact with Draco by loosening his grip on the hug. “If you ever need to talk, or not talk, I’m here.”

“Thanks Potter,” he replied, leaning forwards, and connecting their foreheads. Harry’s breath hitched and his face burned. Harry’s stomach flipped and a smile creeped its way onto Harry’s face as they stayed like this for a little while longer.

“Draco?” Harry said, his voice only just audible. Draco hummed, the sound resonating within Harry. “We’ll talk again right? At some point,” he asked, a sudden absence of warmth on his forehead. And he opened his eyes to see Draco had leaned away.

“I don’t have much of a choice now,” Draco said, a small smile dancing on his lips. “Sadly, I rather like talking to you,” he sighed as Harry rolled his eyes with a grin.

“You prat,” he teased, bumping his shoulder to Draco’s. “You make it sound like a tragedy.”

“It is, I can’t believe I now _have_ to talk to you,” Draco drawled.

“No one’s forcing you –“

“A real shame that I enjoy your company, despite you having all the grace of a flobberworm,” Draco interrupted with a sigh, making Harry chuckle. “Oh well, I guess if I have to.”

“Oi!” Harry exclaimed, supressing a laugh. “Don’t offend flobberworms like that,” he said, and Draco quirked an eyebrow, amused.

“Why do I put up with you?” Draco muttered, shaking his head.

Harry grinned. “Because you like me,” he said, poking Draco’s face as a pink blush crawled onto it.

“Merlin knows why,” Draco said under his breath. “You’ll never let me live that down.”

“Nope,” Harry said, popping the ‘P’. “Never,” he grinned, lightly pressing his lips to Draco’s.

“Well,” Draco said nonchalantly, his face still tinted pink. “I might be able to let it slide,” he shrugged, and Harry bit back a laugh.

“You might?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Draco shrugged again. “Possibly,” he said, and Harry raised his eyebrow further with a grin.

Draco rolled his eyes.

“That means kiss me again you twit,” Draco said, smirking as Harry’s eyes widened in realisation.

“Well, you could have said,” Harry replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he saw Draco roll his eyes yet again. “All right don’t get all grouchy,” he teased, connecting their lips again in a small kiss. “Happy now?”

“Very much so,” Draco smirked, but it faltered. “Harry I -" he paused, his words failing him. “I need you to know something,” he said, avoiding Harry’s concerned looks. “I avoided talking about this because I didn’t know if – and now I – I _need_ to tell you, before it becomes something I _can’t_ tell you.”

Harry sat up, alert. “OK,” he nodded, and Draco took a deep breath.

“My father has strongly implied that he wants me to – that I’m going to get,” Draco shook his hands, flexing his fingers. “He wants me to become a _Death Eater_ ,” he said, flinching at the name.

“He what?” Harry asked in a low tone, knowing exactly what Draco had said.

“I’m scared I’m not going to have a choice, and I’m running out of time.”

“When?” Harry asked, his blood beginning to boil at the idea that someone’s own family would force someone into this position, just as Sirius’ brother had.

“In the summer,” Draco mumbled. “I just – you needed to know, in case it...”

“It doesn’t change anything,” Harry assuring with a curt nod.

“But what if I -"

“Draco,” Harry said softly. “Do you want to be a Death Eater?”

“ _Merlin on a dragon._ No, I don’t,” he said, scrunching his nose and looking horrified at the notion.

Harry smiled. “All right then,” he said, kissing Draco on the cheek. “It doesn’t change how I feel. We can figure it out, together.”

“It means we have to be careful, and secretive,” Draco informed him, and Harry shrugged. “Although, I suppose you _could_ tell Granger and Weasley, if you thought they’d be OK with it.”

Harry was surprised. “Really?”

“I don’t think it would affect my position if they knew,” Draco shrugged with a sigh. “But only if you want to.”

“Is there anyone you want to tell?” Harry asked. It wasn’t much of an issue for him. Besides the idea of coming out to the Prophet, he didn’t mind who knew about Draco and him.

For Draco, however, it could put him in danger.

“Pansy, maybe Blaise,” Draco said absentmindedly. “Would that be all right?”

Harry smiled again and nodded. “Only if you want to though.”

Smiling back, Draco leaned towards Harry to kiss him, but Harry placed a finger on his lips. “Now head to class!” Harry instructed, watching as Draco tried to keep his composure and not laugh.

“Are you trying to get rid of me Potter?”

“Always,” Harry grinned, standing up, almost stumbling over as he did.

Draco shot up and grabbed Harry’s elbow. “ _Merlin_ Harry, be careful,” he said, shaking his head. “How you survived this long without me I’ll never know,” he muttered, and Harry rolled his eyes.

“I’m very capable of taking care of myself thank you,” Harry retorted, and Draco snorted.

“Very capable. That’s why I had to stop you from tripping down the stairs last week,” Draco said.

Harry began to stumble over his words. “I – well, that was only once –“

“Or when I stopped you from slipping over the edge of the Astronomy Tower,” Draco supplied with a sly smirk.

“It happened twice then, doesn’t mean –“

“How about when you walked into the door and I had to stop you from falling backwards?” Draco said, raising an eyebrow, very amused.

“OK, so _maybe_ I’m a bit clumsy,” Harry said sheepishly as they traipsed their way down the steps of the tower.

“A bit?” Draco asked, a smirk still on his face.

“OK, so I’m _very_ clumsy, but I guess I’m lucky that _you’re_ around to help,” Harry said, wagging a finger in Draco’s direction.

“Bloody lucky indeed,” Draco muttered under his breath, getting elbowed in the stomach by Harry. “Oi you prat! You said it first,” he said, rubbing his stomach.

They reached the door that lead into the corridor and stopped. “I think your ego can take an elbow to the stomach,” Harry said, placing a hand on Draco’s shoulder.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t mean _I_ can,” he pointed out. “I’m guessing you won’t be going to any classes today?” he asked, his eyes searching Harry’s.

Harry shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he said, needing to check on Sirius and explain the article before Sirius did something he’d regret.

Draco nodded. “Until next time then,” he smiled, brushing his lips on Harry’s cheek, making his skin tingle.

“Who’s the sentimental one now?” Harry asked with a sly grin, feeling a little warmer than a moment ago.

“That would be you, Scarhead.”

“Are you sure it’s not you, Ferret Face?” Harry teased back.

Draco lightly thwacked him round the back of the head. “Never mention the ferret,” he shivered, and Harry bit back a giggle.

“You were a pretty cute ferret,” he said, chuckling as Draco looked disgusted.

“I refuse to accept that,” Draco said, shaking his head. “And stop distracting me, we’re supposed to be having a pleasant ‘ _see you soon’_.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “When have _you_ ever been pleasant?” he grinned.

“I have it on good authority that I can be rather pleasant actually,” Draco sniffed.

“If it’s from Parkinson it doesn’t count,” Harry said without any emotion, laughing internally as Draco struggled to say anyone else has called him pleasant.

“I’m going to leave now,” Draco announced, smirking as Harry rolled his eyes.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Harry smiled.

“ _Bye_ Harry,” he emphasised, smiling back.

Harry chuckled as they entered the corridor and waved enthusiastically as they went their separate ways – Draco brought a hand to his face to hide his blush.

\-----

As Harry approached the Gryffindor Tower, he prayed Sirius had waited for an explanation. Either that or Remus forced him to wait for one, he didn’t mind either way.

There was always a possibility he hadn’t read the Prophet yet if Remus was late for his daily check-in – though he knew it didn’t really make a difference, he would prefer it if _he_ was the one to tell Sirius, not the Prophet.

Harry froze halfway up the stairs to the boy’s dormitory.

This was not a conversation he wanted to have; it was a conversation he had successfully avoided his whole life. He refused to be a burden; now the Prophet was going to force him to make something from nothing. He knew his living situation was mediocre at best, but he’d survived it for fourteen years, what was two more?

Taking a shaky breath, Harry willed his body to climb the rest of the stairs and rooted around the bottom of his trunk for the mirror shard.

He sat, flipping the shard in the centre of his hand, trying to mentally prepare himself as best he could for the oncoming conversation.

“Sirius Black,” he said, watching as his reflection vanished as it does when you throw a stone at a still puddle. It rippled until a different view came into focus. “Sirius?” he called out, assuming his shard was on a table.

“Cub?” he heard Sirius reply, the shard staying firmly where it was.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Harry said, unable to sit still. “Have you – has Remus – Did you read today’s Prophet?”

Sirius’ face appeared above the shard. “Sorry about that, Buckbeak’s been quite, _restless,_ recently,” he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “What did you ask me Cub?”

Harry opened his mouth to ask again, only to be interrupted by his Godfather

“Why aren’t you in lesson? Is everything all right?” Sirius asked, definitely assuming the worst.

“I’m –“ Harry was going to say he was fine. “Have you read the Prophet yet?” he said instead.

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Not yet, Moony’s late, probably due to the full moon in a few days,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Has the Prophet written an article about you again?” he asked his voice filled with concern. He knew Harry was quite resilient with the Prophet’s articles, but no one is invincible.

“They –“ Harry broke off as soon as he heard a door opening. His stomach dropped.

“Hey Pads, it’s only me,” he heard Remus call out.

Remus will have seen the article.

“Moony! Finally,” Sirius let out an exasperated breath, glancing over the top of the mirror. “What took you so long?” he asked, flashing Remus a grin.

Harry could hazard a guess.

“Well, you’re not going to like – is that Harry?” he heard Remus ask, probably gesturing to Sirius’ shard of the mirror.

“Hi Remus,” Harry said, hoping his nerves didn’t transpire into his voice.

With the noise of rustling papers and coats, Remus appeared just behind Sirius’ shoulder and glanced between the two of them. “How are you Harry?” he asked, his voice gentle, as if he was scared Harry was about to destroy the entire Gryffindor Tower.

Harry shrugged, knowing Remus would see right through his lies.

Remus sighed, offering Harry a small supportive smile. “Is that what this impromptu call is about?”

Harry nodded, not trusting his words to tell the truth.

On the other side of the shard, Harry could see Sirius’ eyes flicking between the two, debating on who to direct his questions at. “It’s not your fault Cub, none of it is,” Remus said, placing a hand on Sirius’ shoulder to tell him not to ask any questions yet.

“I don’t –“ Harry’s words died in his throat. Did he see it as being his fault? _Some of it must be_.

“Harry,” he heard Remus’ heartbreak and Harry realised he said that aloud.

Shaking his head, Harry could just about see Sirius and Remus exchange looks.

“Cub, what was it you wanted to tell me?” Sirius asked, his voice soft, but not as fragile as Remus’.

It was then that Harry realised he hadn’t thought this conversation through. The idea of talking about his life with the Dursleys, _actually_ talking about it, had never stayed in his mind long enough for him to plan a speech about it.

“Take your time,” Sirius said, noticing Harry’s elongated hesitation. “Don’t rush your thoughts.”

And that was all Harry needed.

His explanation was by no means coherent, or chronological. There were many instances in which he backtracked what he was saying or made additions to memories he’d spoken about previously. He tried not to look at Sirius or Remus because he knew if he looked, he would stop talking, and he didn’t want to.

Now he had begun to speak, he didn’t want to hear their responses, their disappointment and anger and pity.

But eventually, he ran out of things to say.

Harry looked at Sirius, who was deathly still. In fact, if it weren’t for the fact that he was blinking, Harry would have thought he was dead. Then, his eyes moved over to Remus, who had gone very pale and his grip on Sirius’ shoulder had tightened.

“Harry, have you ever told _anyone_ what you just told us?” Remus asked, a pained expression running over his face for a split-second.

“Besides the outburst that made it into the Prophet, no,” Harry said, examining his hands in his lap as if he’d never seen them before.

“That’s what…?” Sirius began, his expression darkening as Remus nodded. “Fuck,” he muttered. “That’s messed up, _why_ in Merlin’s name would they –?” Sirius got more irritated with every word, his expression only souring.

Remus didn’t answer him. “Does anyone else know?”

Harry shrugged. “Maybe?” he said, bringing his knees up to his chest. “Ron and ‘Mione probably know, sort of, and Draco’s suspicious but he doesn’t push for answers.”

Remus raised an eyebrow at the mention of the Malfoy’s name, and turned to Sirius who shrugged, indicating he would explain later.

“And they’ve never gotten physical?” Sirius asked, looking ready for murder.

Harry shook his head. “Besides Dudley and his gang occasionally using me as a punching bag,” he shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal. “Dumbledore knows too, I think,” Harry added after a moment of thought. “He knows I hate it there; he must have known about the cupboard; my Hogwarts letter was addressed there.”

Remus’ eyes widened. “Surely he – _surely_ he wouldn’t make you go back there if he knew?”

Harry wished he could share Remus’ faith in Dumbledore.

“The man let me rot in Azkaban for twelve year, I wouldn’t be too sure,” Sirius sighed, his tone bitter. “Is it possible for you to adopt him? I mean, you’re _technically_ his Godfather, too right? Since we’re married,” Sirius asked, grasping at ideas.

“What?” Harry asked, certain he’d misheard. Sirius had never corrected Harry when he said he only had one Godfather.

The two men sighed. “We knew you hadn’t noticed,” Sirius said softly, biting back a smile. “Remus is my husband Harry.”

“Sadly,” Remus muttered, laughing as Sirius elbowed him. Harry blinked, dazed. He never noticed, but it explained _a lot_. “And I tried, for years I tried,” Remus sighed.

“You did?” Harry asked, brief flashes of a childhood with Remus flooding through his mind.

Remus smiled. “Your mother disliked your aunt quite a bit, I assumed there was a reason. I wanted to give you the happiest home I could.”

Unsure of what to say, Harry blinked rapidly as his eyes stung. “Why would you want to adopt me now?”

“So you never have to go back there,” Sirius said, as if it was obvious.

“Oh, it’s OK, it’s not that bad, really. Besides Dumbledore won’t allow it.” Harry hated trying to talk them out of adopting him, but the truth to what he said made his stomach drop.

“Fuck Dumbledore,” Remus said, shocking both Sirius and Harry.

“But –“

“Harry, you are _not_ going back there,” Remus said, without a shadow of a doubt. Sirius nodded in agreement.

“Moony’s right, you’re not going back.” Sirius’ eyes lit up with a fiery determination. “Nothing, and I mean nothing, ever excuses letting a child grow up in an abusive household Cub,” Sirius said, his eyes staying fixed on Harry’s.

Remus appeared to have a realisation and his hand slid from Sirius’ shoulder to his hand as the word ‘ _abusive_ ’ replayed over and over in Harry’s mind. Harry had never thought about it being abuse. “Pads,” Remus said quietly. Harry only just heard Remus speak.

Sirius shook his head. “I’m not leaving you there Harry,” he insisted, his words never wavering. “Do you need me to visit?”

Before Harry could tell Sirius how bad an idea that was, Remus began to speak. “Sirius, is that really a good idea with Umbridge watching the school?” he reasoned. Sirius slumped into his chair.

“Then _you_ visit him,” Sirius replied.

“You don’t need to visit me,” Harry said, but they both acted as if he didn’t say a thing.

“She won’t let me into the school as much as she wouldn’t let you,” Remus bit his thumb as he thought. “When is your next Hogsmeade trip?”

Harry furrowed his eyes. “The fourteenth, why?”

“Valentines day… do we have any plans Padfoot?” Remus asked, watching Sirius grin.

“My dear Moony, I don’t believe we do.”

“That settles it then,” Remus declared, sending a smile in Harry’s direction. “Next weekend, we’ll visit you in Hogsmeade.”

Sirius nodded enthusiastically. “We’ll meet you at the Hogs Head.”

“But it’ll be dangerous for you Sirius!” Harry insisted. “And you too Remus.”

“But not for Padfoot,” he assured. “We’ll be careful Cub, we promise, but we’re not going to ignore this, we’re your family – your Godparents, and we love you too much to pretend this isn’t happening.”

Even though Harry wanted to see them both, he knew it was a bad idea, that they would get caught. Remus would get accused of plotting against the Ministry, and Sirius would get sent to Azkaban.

“I’ve been meaning to go to Hogsmeade for a while now,” Remus added, his eyes flickering to Sirius. “Been putting it off actually. Order business.”

“There you go then,” Sirius announced, grinning at Harry. “We would have been going to Hogsmeade at some point anyway Cub.”

“I guess, if you’re not visiting, _just_ to see me…” Harry said.

“We’ll be there at about eleven.”

\-----

For the rest of the week, Harry was unable to contain his nerves. He was irritable and jumpy, concerned that Sirius was going to get caught and worried about Draco. He would snap at anyone that spoke a word to him, scaring them senseless and the Gryffindor’s quickly learned to avoid him as they waited for him to cool down. He was glad that Umbridge had been sick for the past view days, or else he would definitely not have been able to go to Hogsmeade.

By Wednesday, Hermione and Ron were concerned, and they cornered him in an empty classroom on their way to the Great Hall for lunch. “I’m fine,” Harry replied, without a second thought.

Ron glanced at Hermione; his eyebrows furrowed. “You’re far from fine Harry, even bloody Snape can tell somethings wrong,” Ron said, tired of asking the same question. It was true that Snape had been less vindictive for the past few days.

“I’m _fine,”_ he insisted, lifting his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. “There’s just, a lot happening OK?” he said, a dull ache pressing at the back of his eyes.

“You don’t speak to us anymore Harry,” Hermione said bluntly. “You sneak off every chance you get to _Merlin knows_ where and you snap at everyone and everything and -"

“What Hermione means is,” Ron interrupted. “We’re worried for you mate, really worried,” Ron said, his eyes fixed on Harry who shuffled awkwardly.

“I – Snuffles is meeting me in Hogsmeade on Saturday,” he said, deflecting from Hermione’s point about sneaking off.

They froze.

“Oh,” Hermione said, her expression neutral. “Is this about -?”

“Yes,” Harry said, looking at the ground and he scraped the sole of his shoe on the floor.

Ron sighed. “Harry, if you had said that then -"

“Don’t, please,” Harry said, not wanting anymore pity. “He knows it’s a bad idea but, he won’t listen to reason, neither will Remus.”

“Remus is coming too?” Hermione asked, astonished.

“They are married you know,” Ron said, and Hermione looked as baffled as Harry did a few days ago. “Honestly ‘Mione, you’re clueless with this stuff sometimes, it was bleeding obvious.”

She blinked, shaking her head. “Anyway, Harry, do you want us to come with you?” she asked. Harry was grateful she didn’t just assume they would be joining him.

Harry shook his head.

“If it’s just me, he’s less likely to get caught, isn’t he?”

Hermione pursed her lips, looking as if she wanted to contradict him. “Will you be all right-"

“Will you stop asking if I’m all right!” he snapped, and Hermione flinched at the volume of his voice.

Ron frowned, placing a hand on Hermione's shoulder as she took a step back. “Harry,” he said, sternly. “We know you have a lot on your mind, and we want to be here for you, but don’t be a prick about it.”

Under Ron’s glare, Harry felt the guilt pool in his stomach and twist itself up his spine. He nodded, concerned that if he spoke, the words wouldn’t be what he wanted them to be.

“You don’t have to tell us where you go, but knowing that you _are_ going or, _Merlin_ , just knowing you’re OK,” Ron trailed off, trying to find the words to convey what he wanted to. “You’ve never been the kind of bloke to talk about feeling, and we’ve never minded because you still told us what was going on,” Ron sighed, moving his hand from Hermione's shoulder to Harry's. “We want to know what’s happening with you.”

“Draco kissed me,” Harry blurted, clamping a hand over his mouth as he did.

Ron’s eyes bulged. “Malfoy?” he exclaimed, horrified.

“Then I kissed him,” Harry said, deciding he might as well tell them everything.

“You what?” Ron squeaked; his voice two octaves higher than normal.

Hermione remained silent.

“It’s – _er_ – it’s been happening a lot actually,” Harry muttered, his face heating up.

“ _Bloody Merlin,_ that was not what I was expecting,” Ron said, more to himself than anyone else. Hermione was watching Harry with an unidentifiable look in her eye. “Not that I’m against you liking blokes!” he corrected. “Just – _Malfoy.”_

“Harry,” Hermione said, her eyes firmly watching Harry’s. “Is this, _wise?”_

Harry chuckled nervously, his hand running through his hair. “I haven’t told him anything about the Order ‘Mione.”

“But what if, it’s a plan to get close to you.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, but Ron spoke before he could. “Then _You-Know-Who_ needs to reassess his plans,” he said, and Hermione looked at him incredulously. “I mean, _Malfoy_? Everyone knows Harry and him hate each other – or, used to. If I wanted someone to get close to Harry and get information, Malfoy would not be the first to come to mind.”

“I wondered too ‘Mione, but he hasn’t asked me about _anything_. In fact, he insisted it was a stupid idea and I should forget he ever kissed me,” Harry said, smiling at the memory.

Hermione's face softened. “And what did you say?”

“I told him he’d have to obliviate me,” Harry grinned. “Also, it happened after the Befuddlement Draught. He was just as shocked as I was, I think.”

Hermione smiled and whilst Ron looked confused, he did appear to be amused at Harry’s smitten behaviour. “What about, his _father_?” Hermione asked, albeit apprehensively, and Harry appreciated that she didn’t want to overstep.

“He doesn’t believe in what his father does, if that’s what you’re asking,” Harry assured, prepared to stick up for Draco if he needed to.

Ron shook his head. “That’s, somehow not as surprising as I thought it would be.”

“He never did join in with the other Slytherins on the blood purity nonsense, did he?” Hermione asked, although it was more of a statement. “He was still unpleasant, but after Warrington...”

“And especially after Christmas...” Ron finished, smirking at Harry who felt his face heat.

“I think everything with Warrington made him realise how much he’d been inadvertently encouraging it,” Harry shrugged, choosing to ignore Ron’s comment.

“You still need to be careful Harry,” Hermione advised, an eyebrow raised. “I know you believe him, but, just in case.”

Harry sighed. “I’m not going to tell you everything Draco’s told me, but,” he paused, thinking. “There’s a lot that he’s _figuring out?_ And if I’m honest, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know if he was genuine but,” he couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face.

“But...?”

“You love him don’t you,” Ron groaned, and Harry felt defensive.

“I’m not sure,” he said honestly. “And if I did? Would that be bad?” Harry challenged, and Ron shook his head.

“I’ll have a Malfoy as a brother-in-law!” he exclaimed, and Hermione snorted as Harry blushed the deepest shade of red, he had ever gone in his life. “A _Malfoy!”_ he exclaimed again, to make his point.

“I think you made your point Ronald,” Hermione chortled, her eyes on Harry.

Ron continued to make sputtering noises as Hermione rolled her eyes and Harry felt a little lighter. He had been so worried that they would hate Draco, it was nice to know they didn’t.


	4. chapter four

“How you ever got anything above a D, is beyond me,” Draco said, reading through Harry’s potion essay, brushing his fingers through Harry’s hair as his head was on Draco's lap. “Your handwriting is abysmal Potter.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Git,” he muttered, smiling. “Just tell me if the essay's any good.”

“You forgot to mention that moonstone isn’t just a gem, but besides that you’ll get a passing mark,” Draco smiled.

“It’s not just a gem?” Harry asked in disbelief, lifting his head.

Draco furrowed his eyebrows and began to laugh, biting his lip to try and stop himself. “Do you pay attention _at all_ in Potions?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sighing dramatically, Harry flopped back onto Draco's lap. “Your Godfather hates me.”

“Hm, I wouldn’t say he hates you, per say,” Draco said, shrugging, still running his fingers through Harry’s hair. “He,” Draco paused.

“Loathes me? Finds me intolerable?” Harry supplied.

“ _I_ find you intolerable Harry, never mind Snape,” Draco smirked as Harry opened his mouth to protest, but grinned instead.

“Well, I was going to _thank you_ for reading through my Potions essay, but now...” His grin grew when he saw Draco's face become still and his hand paused for a moment.

He coughed. “Not that I need to be thanked, but what would my thanks have been? In curiosity of course,” Draco said, nonchalantly, flipping the parchment Harry’s essay was on.

Harry chuckled. “Of course,” he nodded. “I was thinking about thanking you with a kiss and,” he paused, watching as one of Draco's eyebrows twitched upwards. “The jam tarts I got from the kitchens earlier,” he sighed, forcing himself not to laugh as Draco's hand froze, “Oh well, I’ll just have to -"

“Potter, I take it a back, you’re brilliant. Now give me the jam tarts.”

Harry giggled, sitting up and removing the box from its hiding spot. “You don’t want the kiss too?” he teased, knowing about Draco's addiction to anything sweet.

“You don’t tell me about pasties again and there will be no more kisses,” Draco informed him, and Harry rolled his eyes, knowing it was an empty threat.

Draco opened the box and selected a jam tart, his expression melting into one of pure joy when he bit into it. Harry watched him, smiling.

“What are staring at?” Draco asked, raising an eyebrow when he noticed Harry watching him.

Harry shook his head. “Nothing,” he grinned.

“Sap,” Draco muttered, picking another tart from the box.

“You love my sappyness, don’t deny it.”

Draco sighed, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “I can’t deny that I enjoy it Potter.”

After a moment of silence, Harry grabbed Draco's free hand and started to trace along the indents in his palm. Draco gasped at the gentle touch but didn’t protest, so Harry continued. They sat in the presence of each other for what could have been hours. Harry’s mind had been quite preoccupied tonight as they sat in their usual spot on the Astronomy Tower.

“ _For Merlin’s sake_ ,” Draco muttered, tangling his fingers with Harry’s. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his eyes challenging Harry to deny something was wrong, and continued when Harry furrowed his eyebrows. “You’ve been frowning at my hand for the last ten minutes,” Draco supplied, answering Harry’s thoughts.

“What are we?” Harry asked.

“Are you really upset over philosophical dread?” Draco returned, raising an eyebrow.

Harry shook his head. “No, what are _we;_ you and I; is there an _us?”_

Frowning, Draco pushing himself from the wall and turned to Harry. “Yes – I thought it was obvious?”

“It’s just, I kind of assumed but I never actually _asked,_ and I didn’t know -"

“Harry,” Draco interrupted, and Harry forced his mouth shut. “I’d have to be incredibly stupid for this to only be a fling, you know it would be incredibly _Gryffindor,_ of me to do that, all things considering.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s OK,” Draco said, with a tentative smile. “We should have talked about it.”

Harry frowned again.

“That’s not everything is it?” Draco asked, his eyes piercing Harry’s.

He considered denying it, but he also had hoped to ask Draco to join him in Hogsmeade, if he was willing. “What do you know about my Godfather?”

Draco’s lips parted. He wasn’t expecting Harry to ask him that. “I know he was your father’s best friend,” Draco said apprehensively, as if testing the waters for something. “And I – Harry I don’t know if you know this – he wasn’t the one to sell out your parents to the Dark – to _You-Know-Who._ ”

Harry softly smiled at Draco, finding it cute that Draco cared so. “I know,” he said.

“So why -"

“I needed to see if you knew, before I told you what’s on my mind, otherwise it might have been a bit much.” Harry turned his body to face Draco fully, watching as the concern flickered on and off his face. “I’m meeting with my Godparents tomorrow, in Hogsmeade.”

Harry didn’t need to say much else, as Draco put the pieces together in his mind.

“About...” he trailed off. Harry nodded. “And you’re concerned he’s going to get caught.”

“He’s got Remus to stop him from doing anything rash but, he’s still only one wizard.”

“Professor Lupin? Are they still married?” Draco asked, surprised their relationship had withstood the twelve years of separation.

Harry laughed. “I really was the only one who didn’t know.”

“Well I hate to tell you this Harry, but you are very oblivious,” Draco smirked.

“I’m not _that_ bad, surely,” Harry replied, raising his eyebrows at Draco who raised one back.

“I climbed a tree last year, so you’d notice me,” Draco admitted, his face going pink as Harry broke into a grin.

“Really?” Harry chuckled. “I thought you did it to be overly dramatic.”

Draco hummed in response. “That too. Anyway, you were saying?”

Sighing, Harry started to fiddle with the edge if his robes. “I told them everything, and they said I don’t ever have to go back there.”

Harry watched as Draco's eyebrows furrowed. “You don’t seem happy about that.”

“I don’t want them to be burdened by me,” he mumbled, burying the side of his face in his knees. “They have to deal with so much and, I’m sure I can spend a few more years with the Dursley’s.”

Draco gently cupped Harry’s face in his hands, forcing Harry to look at his eyes. “You’ve never elaborated on your home life, and I have never asked because if you want to tell me, you will,” Draco’s eyes were alight, and Harry knew he meant every word he was saying. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t see how badly it affects you. I’ve noticed how you eat, how you interact with certain people, how you think you _need_ to do everything yourself, if someone can get you out of there, let them.” He had spoken softly, but his words hit Harry like a ton of bricks and despite the words clawing at his throat, he couldn’t speak.

Instead, he lent forward and slightly kissed the end of Draco's nose, then proceeding to tackle the blond to the floor in a hug.

They held each other tightly, as if worried the other would disappear.

“I was wondering,” Harry said, the two boys still tangled on the floor. “Would you come with me?”

“To meet your Godparents?” Draco smirked. “I had no idea we were that serious,” he teased, setting Harry off on a stream of stuttered words.

“I – well, _technically_ but – I mean you don’t have to – if you – it’s just that,” Harry said, going darker with each word and Draco laughed.

“I’m teasing,” he said, messing with the end of Harry’s hair.

“Git,” Harry mumbled.

“What about Granger and Weasley?” Draco asked, confused.

“I don't think I can let them know about it yet. they'll blame themselves for never noticing," Harry sighed. "And, well, I thought that you could talk to Sirius and Remus about your situation because they’re in – because they might know what to do,” Harry smiled sheepishly.

Draco tensed. “You didn’t -"

“I’d never,” Harry interrupted, shaking his head. “That's not for me to tell them. It’s just, I was thinking about who might be able to help you and before you say anything, I _am_ going to figure out a way for you to not take the Dark Mark, no matter what.” Harry felt his face heat up as Draco grinned.

“You’re brilliant,” he said, his eyes wide and shining. “A real wonder boy,” he joked, and Harry didn’t have the heart to reprimand him as he usually did. It was a wonderful smile.

“Is that a yes?” Harry asked.

Draco nodded frantically, but it as it slowed, he frowned. “But I can’t be seen with you.”

Now Harry was grinning like an idiot. “Don’t worry about that,” he said, and Draco raised an eyebrow. “Just meet me by the Whomping Willow tomorrow at ten.”

“Cryptic...” Draco muttered, smiling, nonetheless. “Do you really think they’ll be able to ameliorate the situation?”

“I’m not sure,” Harry replied, hoping ‘ _ameliorate_ ’ meant ‘ _to help’._ “But if anyone can help, it’s Sirius and Remus.”

\-----

The cold was biting at Harry’s neck as he tightened his cloak around him, hoping to repel the cold. He tucked the invisibility cloak further under his arms and waited for a familiar head of white-blond hair.

Ron and Hermione had cast him bewildered looks at his cheery attitude at breakfast – so did half of Gryffindor, who had dealt with his sour mood all week. It seemed unexplainable, but Harry’s nerves about Sirius getting caught were rivalling his excitement at spending a day with Draco outside the Astronomy Tower. His eyes kept flickering to the Slytherin table, and when Ron caught his eye, he blushed slightly, smiling as Ron rolled his eyes, now understanding his behaviour.

When he noticed a flickering of blond hair, Harry signalled the other boy over.

“So, what’s this ingenious plan of yours?” Draco asked, sounding nervous despite the smirk that was etched into his features. Harry pulled them further into the shrubbery of the edge of the forest, hoping to placate his nerves.

With a smile, Harry pulled the invisibility cloak from his cloak with a dramatic flourish. “Ta-da,” he said, laughing as Draco raised an eyebrow.

“A cloak?” he asked.

“It was my Dads, not many people know I own this,” he said, watching as Draco’s expression softened. “And it’s not an ordinary cloak,” he grinned, like a five-year-old explaining their favourite book.

Harry wrapped the silky fabric around his body, and chuckled as Draco’s jaw went slack, his lips parting and his eyes shining. “Holy Salazar and Merlin,” he whispered, pausing to choose what question to ask first. “And this was your Dad’s?”

Harry shrugged, but then realised Draco couldn’t see him shrugging. “Apparently,” he said, smiling.

Draco’s eyes narrowed as he examined the empty space where Harry’s body had been. “But invisibility cloaks _barely_ last a year, the charms wear off...”

“They do?” Harry asked. He hadn’t questioned why the cloak worked; he just knew it did. “Well anyway, this should let us walk around Hogsmeade unnoticed, or at least, you don’t have to worry about being seen with me.”

Draco smiled softly at Harry, before pressing his lips to Harry’s, “Thank you Harry, for letting me join you,” he said. “But,” he looked at Harry, who had opened his mouth to reply. “Don’t use my problems to avoid your own, talk to your Godparents about what they _came_ to talk about _first_ OK?” he asked, his eyes insistent.

“I -" Harry was about to say he wasn’t going to do that. “I won’t,” he promised, and Draco sighed in relief.

“Good,” he nodded. “When are you meeting them?”

“Eleven,” Harry said, removing the cloak.

“It takes ages to walk there, we should get going.”

Harry grinned once more. “We’re taking a shortcut,” he announced, and Draco froze, a lazy grin pushing onto his face.

“Why am I not surprised?” he chuckled.

“Oi you git, I’m a bundle of surprises, we’ve established this,” Harry deadpanned.

“Prat,” Draco grinned. “Where is this shortcut then?” Chuckling nervously, Harry gestured to the Whomping Willow. “I know you’re a Gryffindor, but are you sure you don’t have a death wish?”

“You have such little faith in me,” Harry said, shaking his head, levitating a branch to the knot between the roots of the tree.

The branches of the Willow froze.

“Forgive me for doubting that you actually knew what you were doing,” Draco drawled. “You have a record of being a quite thoughtless on these matters,” he shrugged as Harry elbowed his arm.

“Sod off,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. “Ladies first,” he grinned, gesturing to the entryway.

Draco sniffed and held his head high. “As it should be,” he nodded, a faint smile on his lips. He walked towards the Whomping Willow and glanced back at Harry who gestured for him to continue. “If you run my clothes Potter -"

“Scared Malfoy?” Harry taunted, smirking as Draco froze.

“You wish,” he replied, stepping into the hole, and disappearing. Harry quickly followed suit and was thankful Draco had moved out of the way as he landed in a heap at the bottom of the hole.

Brushing the soil off of his robes, Harry stood up and adjusted his glasses, noticing Draco had already cast a _Lumos_. The bulb of bright light illuminated his face, making his hair look white instead of blond. “How is your hair still perfect?” Harry asked, casting a _Lumos_ himself. He smiled as Draco subconsciously held his hand, linking their fingers together.

“Perks of being a Malfoy,” he smirked, making Harry roll his eyes. “Where does this tunnel lead?” he asked, ducking under a tree root.

“The Shrieking Shack,” Harry said, smiling as he didn’t need to duck under the tree root.

“The where now?” Draco asked, and Harry rolled his eyes.

“It’s not really haunted Draco, you’ll be fine,” Harry chuckled, as Draco lost his usual cool demeanour.

“I – I know that,” Draco sniffed, turning his head from Harry’s amused gaze.

Stepping closer to Draco, Harry bumped their shoulders together. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” he grinned, biting back a laugh as Draco looked mortified.

“I don’t need protecting Potter, have you _seen_ your lack of survival instincts? You waltz headfirst into danger! And don’t get me started on how clumsy you are,” Draco chastised. “If anyone needs protecting, it’s you.”

Harry burst into laughter, unable to help himself, and Draco went pink, his nose scrunching up as Harry brought a hand up to his face, dousing his _Lumos_ so he didn’t blind Draco, and stood on the tip of his toes to kiss the blond on the cheek. “You’re adorable,” he grinned, watching Draco go from pink to red.

Swatting away Harry’s hand, the corners of his mouth twitched. “I have a reputation Potter, _Merlin_ ,” he said, no longer supressing the smile.

Harry glanced around them dramatically. “Unless the tree roots know of this reputation, you don’t need to worry,” he said, grinning. “And what reputation?”

“Slytherin’s Ice Prince, obviously,” he drawled, raising his nose in the air. Harry snorted.

The two walked in silence, with the occasional chuckle as they stumbled over roots or Draco bumped his head on the roots hanging from above. The tunnel was smaller than Harry remembered it being, perhaps he had grown more than he realised over the past two years. It was still uncomfortably damp and dirty, but thankfully, Draco knew a cleaning spell ‘ _Scourgify’,_ which removed the dirt from their clothes and Harry’s hair when they emerged from the tunnel– Draco’s hair was _still_ immaculate.

“This is where I first met Sirius,” Harry said, looking around the shack with an out of place fondness in his eyes. The room was still covered in dust and the boarded-up windows forced the sunlight in strange directions, making the room seem almost prison-like. “That was an – _eventful_ night,” he said, smiling at Draco who was looking at him with a fondness Harry had begun to notice over the past few weeks. It was almost invisible, his expression as collected as always, but his eyes would shine and become silver instead of grey, and the corners of his mouth would be slightly upturned.

“What a lovely place for a family reunion,” Draco said sarcastically, raising an eyebrow as something in the shack moved, releasing a puff of dust into the air.

“I did think he was trying to kill me at the time, so I don’t think the décor was much of a focal point,” Harry chuckled, as they exited the shack, but not before donning the invisibility cloak. Being this close to Draco made Harry’s head spin and he revelled in the warmth emanating from the blond.

Once the two boys reached the safety of the trees on the path to the village, Harry stepped out from beneath the cloak. He missed the comfort of the blond’s hand in his own and as they walked down the path, he suddenly understood how strange it must have been for Ron and Hermione to talk to him whilst he was under the cloak.

“Harry,” Draco whispered softly. When Harry hummed in acknowledgement, Draco continued. “Your hands are shaking, are you cold?” he asked, and Harry glanced down at his hands (which felt perfectly fine) and noticed they were indeed shaking.

Harry shook his head. “I’m not cold,” he muttered, his eyebrows furrowing as his hands continued to tremble.

“Nervous?” Draco asked, and Harry paused, unsure of what he felt.

Then, an unpleasant feeling grew in his stomach, climbing through his chest and squeezing at his throat. He wasn’t scared, but uncomfortable; it was the same feeling he got before he spoke to Sirius after the article in the Prophet. It was an itchiness and a restlessness that made him want to deny that there was anything wrong, because if he did, the feeling would disappear, as it had done when Draco was distracting him in the tunnel.

The lack of any answer from Harry, lead to an audible sigh from Draco and Harry felt something curl around his fingers. He glanced down at his hand, but couldn’t see anything. “Yes Potter, I’m holding your hand,” Draco whispered, sounding exasperated, but Harry was certain he was blushing. “You clearly have too much pride to admit you’re nervous about this.”

“Maybe you’re nervous,” Harry muttered. It was a childish response, he knew that, but was all that came to mind.

“Of course I am, but this is about you Harry, and don’t insinuate anything different,” Draco replied, tightening his grip on Harry’s fingers.

Harry sighed. “I’m trying not to, but I mean, it’s nothing compared to what’s happening to you.”

“Stop comparing your problems to other people’s Harry, that’s how you end up being miserable,” Draco whispered, Harry’s fingertips turning purple. “My father possibly forcing me to become a Death Eater does not mean that your _own_ family life is hunky-dory. It’s fucked up by the sounds of things,” he muttered, and the snow on the ground swished, being kicked around by an invisible foot. “Besides, at least I can say with certainty that my family does care for me – in a way,” Draco said, and whilst it was not meant to be jab at his own home life, Harry felt defensive.

Harry bit his tongue, holding back a comment on Draco’s family that was not flattering and took a deep breath. This was the same disagreement they had yesterday, and Harry did not want to restart it, in case it caused a fight. Instead, they walked in tense silence, Draco still clutching Harry’s hand, soothing him as best he could, despite Harry’s brooding.

When they approached the gate that lead into Hogsmeade and Remus came into view, Harry’s grip on Draco’s hand tightened.

“It’ll be fine,” Draco assured, and Harry took a deep breath.

Remus turned his head, and noticed Harry, who apprehensively waved, forcing a smile. Remus waved back, a black dog sat by his heels, looking disgruntled. Harry bit back a chuckle at the sight, knowing that Remus had told Sirius not to react in a way that would draw attention to them.

“Hi Remus,” Harry said, as Draco let go of his fingers.

Remus took one look at Harry and wrapped his arms around the boys trembling form, hoping to settle Harry’s nerves. Harry stiffened at the gesture for a moment, before relaxing into Remus’ warm embrace, returning the hug. “It’s been too long Cub,” Remus said softly.

“It has,” Harry nodded. Whilst he did get to see Remus over Christmas, he didn’t manage to see much of his old professor. It was only when he heard a soft barking, that Harry pulled away from the hug. “Hi Snuffles,” Harry teased, earning a laugh from Remus and a huff of indignance from Sirius.

“We should go before _Snuffles_ over here gets frustrated,” Remus said, nodding in Sirius’ direction. Sirius whined slightly, somehow managing to look offended in his dog form. “Did you come alone?” Remus asked, noticing a lack of Ron or Hermione.

Harry shook his head. “I’m not alone,” he replied, wondering how far Draco had wandered and whether he decided to give the three of them some space for a moment.

Raising an eyebrow, Remus smiled at Harry who blushed under the amused gaze of his Godfather. “The cloak, I presume?” he asked, knowing the answer. Remus sighed, his smile widening as Sirius’ head flicked between Harry and Remus and then around the empty space surround them, standing close to Harry, who felt his blush darken when he realised that Sirius was being a protective guardian.

“Si- _Snuffles_ ,” Harry groaned, running his hand through his hair. Sirius whined at Harry for using his awful nickname.

Departing from the little gate, they made their way to the cave that Sirius used to live in whilst he was on the run – although it had since been emptied of any clues that someone used to live there. The trek was almost unbearable for Harry, despite Draco’s silent comfort at his side. Padfoot was running up ahead, with Remus closely behind, but Harry and Draco lagged behind.

As soon as they reached the cave, Sirius transformed back into his human body and tackled Harry in a hug, knocking him back slightly. “I missed you Cub,” Sirius muttered, and Harry hugged the man back, clinging to his Godfather.

Once Sirius pulled away from Harry, he heard Draco whisper in his ear, almost inaudible, “Cub?” teasingly, and Harry elbowed the empty space, smirking when he felt his elbow connect with Draco under the cloak. “Merlin’s Mother Potter, you’ve got sharp elbows,” Draco groaned, still under the cloak. Sirius and Remus both raised their eyebrows at the sound of another voice, and Harry knew they had already guessed who it was.

“Remove the cloak you prat,” Harry said, with a faint smile.

After a second of hesitation, Draco removed the cloak and folded it, passing it back to Harry. “Git,” he muttered with a smirk as Harry took the cloak.

“Prick,” Harry retorted, also smiling and Draco rolled his eyes.

“Scarhead,” Draco grinned, and Harry shook his head, opening his mouth the respond when Remus cleared his throat.

Draco stiffened under Remus and Sirius’ amused gaze and smoothed his robes instinctively. “Hello Professor Lupin,” Draco said calmly, his expression devoid of any emotion. “Mr Black,” he nodded at Sirius who flinched.

“ _Merlin_ , please call me Sirius, we’re cousins after all,” he shivered, outstretching a hand to Draco who gingerly accepted the hand. Harry fought off another eye roll.

“It’s lovely to see you again Draco, I hope those books I gave you didn’t get you in any trouble, I haven’t seen you at all since your third year,” Remus smiled, placing a hand on Draco’s shoulder.

“I hid them well Professor,” Draco replied, his ear turning pink as Harry and Sirius exchanged a bemused glance.

Upon seeing their confused expressions Remus smiled. “You weren’t the only one I had frequent meetings with Harry,” Remus explained. “Draco took quite a liking to my collection of Muggle classics.”

“You read Muggle literature?” Harry asked, surprised Draco had never mentioned it.

Harry turned to his boyfriend who shrugged, a pink hue covering his face. “They’re interesting,” he mumbled.

The warmth inside of Harry at these interactions almost made him forget why Sirius and Remus were here.

“Sirius and I have been looking into the process of adoption and seeing if there’s a loophole surrounding my – _problem_ ,” Remus began, glancing at Draco who acted as if he didn’t know what Remus was talking about. “In a custody battle, I would lose,” he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“And I’d fight for you but at the moment, that’s not possible,” Sirius said, sounding frustrated.

Even though Harry had said he didn’t mind returning to the Dursley’s, he felt his stomach drop when they confirmed that he had no choice but to return. “It’s really not that bad, you don’t –“

“Emotional abuse is just as bad as physical abuse Harry,” Sirius interrupted, his expression the same as when he first found out about the Dursley’s abusive behaviour. “Just because they never hit you doesn’t mean they’ve never harmed you.” Sirius had a firm grip on Harry’s shoulders, and Harry didn’t know how to respond.

He was thankful when Draco slipped his hand into his own.

“You won’t have to go back there Cub,” Remus assured. “Just because we don’t have custody of you doesn’t mean you can’t live with us,” he smiled, and Sirius’ head perked up.

“We found a loophole,” Sirius grinned, and Harry’s heart leapt. “You can legally move out at the age of sixteen, so you can spend the first week and a bit of summer at the Burrow, then move in with us,” he explained, and Harry felt a grin break across his face.

After explaining their idea in more detail, Harry felt as if a massive weight had lifted off his shoulders – he felt as if he could fly without his firebolt, though he wouldn’t try. The four of them sat on the cold stone ground, sipping on the Butterbeer that Remus had grabbed on his way to meet Harry. He noticed Draco glancing at him with a faint smile and grinned at the blond, who rubbed circles on Harry’s hand and Harry wondered if Draco knew that he was doing it.

Eventually, the conversation drifted from Harry’s neglect (much to Harry’s relief) and to their O.W.L’s.

However, Harry noticed that Draco would glance at Remus, as if to ask him something, before looking down at his lap. He nudged Draco, encouraging him to tell Remus what he told Harry. Somewhat reluctantly, Draco asked if he could speak to Remus for a moment. Remus looked shocked but agreed, nonetheless.

“I know you said he’s different to his father, but,” Sirius whispered to Harry who smiled. “He is nothing like his father,” Sirius chuckled, shaking his head.

“He’s a little stuck-up still, but that’s probably the pureblood upbringing,” Harry grinned at Sirius who ruffled his hair.

“Oh, I get it,” Sirius chuckled. “You’re as bad as Remus,” he muttered with a small smile. “I still don’t like that you’ve fallen for a Malfoy –“

“He’s part of your family,” Harry states, raising an eyebrow at his Godfather, who nodded.

“Exactly, so I know better than anyone that our charm is irresistible,” he said, and Harry not-so-subtly rolled his eyes. “But I approve,” Sirius said, looking at his husband and the blond Slytherin.

When they re-joined the other two in conversation, Draco leaned into Harry and smiled.

“All good?” Harry asked quietly and Draco hummed with a nod.


	5. chapter five

Despite the events that took place leading up the their O.W.L’s, Harry and Draco always found time to continue their late night meetings on the Astronomy Tower. Sometimes Draco would talk, sometimes Harry would talk, other times they would simply enjoy each other’s presence. Draco insisted some of these meetings be study sessions – not that Harry was complaining, Draco’s thinking face was adorable. Harry always made a trip to the kitchens before he arrived (especially after discovering Draco had a soft spot for anything sweet and knowing that if he brought along jam tarts or chocolate eclairs, Draco would be more inclined to help him with his potions essay’s).

However, as soon as Dumbledore’s Army was discovered, it became harder to meet with Draco, and Harry hated that their meetings were becoming less and less frequent. He knew that Draco missed him too, and that was why Draco had suggested some study sessions, so they’d be able to meet more frequently and not feel as guilty about it.

Nothing, however, distracted from Umbridge’s tyranny. As much as they tried to ignore her existence, as soon as Fred and George left, the atmosphere became chaotic and depressing, with everyone trying their hardest to get rid of Umbridge but no one having the same planning expertise. These careless pranks were one of the reasons it was difficult to sneak to the Astronomy Tower. 

Once, Harry got catapulted into the ceiling after setting off one of these pranks and Draco told him that he had, had similar experiences. 

Ron and Hermione always picked up on his chipper mood, smiling with him. It made a change to see Harry smile so effortlessly and it usually happened after a meeting with Draco. This was the only other time they saw Harry relaxed, the other time was when he was at the Burrow. Occasionally, when there was no one else in the common room, Ron or Hermione would ask about Draco and Harry would grin, replying with a simple, “good,” before returning to his studies or the game of exploding snap.

Harry should have expected it to happen eventually, if anything he was surprised it didn’t happen sooner. However, being pulled into an empty classroom on the way to the Great Hall was not when nor where he expected it to happen.

Harry instinctively reached for his wand, but his hand froze before he reach into his pocket when he saw Parkinson and Zabini, clearly attempting to be somewhat intimidating, but after facing Voldemort, nothing else seemed particularly threatening.

“Potter,” Parkinson greeted coldly. Zabini rolled his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose as Harry rubbed the back of his neck, a tentative smile tugging at his mouth.

“Honestly Pansy, you can be nicer,” Zabini muttered, shaking his head as she huffed, still glaring at Harry who shifted on his feet. “Lovely to meet you properly Potter,” he said, flashing Harry as grin. Harry blinked, baffled at the difference in response and nodded at Zabini, shaking his outstretched hand. “Draco told us everything, so you don’t have to worry.”

Harry felt his shoulders relax. Of course Draco had told them everything. It was the most likely conclusion, but he was still wary around the Slytherin duo.

“And if you’re playing with his feelings Potter, I will skin you alive and hang you by your throat off the Astronomy Tower,” Parkinson smirked, her eyes venomous.

Harry felt his mouth go dry. “I – I’m not – it’s,” he said, stumbling over his words.

“Don’t mind Pansy, she tends to opt for the dramatics,” Zabini chuckled as Parkinson squatted his arm. “The sentiment still holds of course – Slytherins protect their own,” he explained, still flashing a dazzling smile. This unnerved Harry more than Parkinson’s direct threat. “But she means well.”

“I still think Draco’s an _utter_ idiot,” Parkinson sighed, and Zabini laughed. “But he’s quite taken with you Potter,” she said, and Harry felt himself blush.

“The feelings mutual,” Harry chuckled, managing to speak for the first time since he had been pulled into the classroom.

Zabini raised an eyebrow, his smile softening. Parkinson unfolded her arms, her glare looking less murderous than before. “My threat still stands Potter,” Parkinson shrugged. “Don’t even _think_ about hurting him, understand?” she asked, raising and eyebrow and Harry grinned.

“I don’t think I could if I tried,” he said honestly.

“He’s making it very difficult to threaten him,” Parkinson muttered to Zabini, making Harry laugh.

“Draco’s been, brighter, recently,” Zabini said, glancing at Harry, as if he was trying to figure him out. “No doubt because of _you_ , in part, so thank you.”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. “He wasn’t like this before?”

Parkinson let out a burst of high pitch laughter. “ _Salazar_ , no, he was distant and cold and – well,” she paused, gesturing with her hand. “He received some _news_ over Christmas, but he wasn’t surprised, he had been expecting it all year,” she said, her eyes flickering to Harry to watch his reaction.

Harry sighed, nodding. “He told me,” Harry admitted, and this was the first time both of the Slytherin’s lost their composure.

“He failed to mention _that_ ,” Zabini said, his eyes narrowing, looking as venomous as Parkinson did moments ago. “And does that change anything?”

“Of course not!” Harry said, snapping his head up to meet Zabini in the eye as Parkinson watched him, as if she was examining him. “It’s not his fault his dad’s a prick,” he sighed.

Zabini laughed. “Well you’re right about that, his father is complete prick.”

“That’s an understatement,” Pansy drawled, rolling her eyes. “Do you remember when we were four and that _blasted_ peacock pecked at my arm and he was more concerned about the peacock?” Pansy shuddered. “Mother is still upset about it.”

Chuckling, the Slytherin duo glanced back at Harry, who was watching their interactions curiously. Their friendship was different to those he had with his fellow Gryffindor’s, but it reminded him of Fred and George – if Fred actually listened to George and the two of them managed to keep their cool.

Parkinson smiled at him for the first time since Harry at been dragged into the classroom, and surprised Harry by wrapping him in a gentle hug. “You’re all right Potter,” she said, smiling as she took a step back. “Not who I would have chosen, but I suppose I can see why he’s so smitten,” she smirked, as Harry smiled, blushing profusely.

“I agree, you’re both clearly mad about each other,” Zabini grinned, and Harry chuckled.

“Don’t tell him that, I think it would upset him to know he’s mad about me,” Harry joked, feeling a sense of satisfaction when Parkinson snorted. These two where important to Draco, and he wanted to get along with them.

“Merlin, he’d be _mortified_ ,” Pansy chuckled, and Zabini raised an eyebrow, amused. “Let’s do it.”

Harry grinned as the two Slytherin’s made a mental note to tease Draco later. “We won’t keep you from the Great Hall any longer Potter – we know that Gryffindor’s are sticklers about food,” Zabini said, glancing at Harry.

“You can call me Harry, if you want” he said, watching with amused eyes and the two of them wrinkled their noses.

“I’ll call you Harry on my death bed,” Parkinson deadpanned, and Zabini nodded. “And don’t you dare call me Pansy, there may not be any distain between us but it’s weird.”

“You can call me Blaise, but don’t expect me to call you Harry,” Blaise added, and Harry snorted.

“Wouldn’t dream of it Blaise,” Harry grinned. Blaise sighed as if it was painful to hear and Parkinson chuckled.

“You brought this upon yourself Blaise, I don’t know what to tell you,” she smirked as Blaise rolled his eyes.

“I suppose I did,” he sighed once more.

Harry felt his stomach rumble and knew that if he were much later, Ron and Hermione would ask him an unjustifiable amount of questions. “Tell Draco I said hi,” he smiled, heading to the door.

“Don’t forget about the threats Potter,” Blaise called out, just as Harry reached for the door handle, and Harry bit back his laughter.

\-----

Harry woke up in a cold sweat. He needed to get to Sirius. He needed to leave, now.

“Are you all right dear? That was quite a noise you made, and you look very pale,” the invigilator asked, a frown pulling onto her face as Harry’s eyes darted around the room. Harry realised he was on the floor.

“Headache – stress,” Harry said, bouncing his hand on his leg as he stood up. He needed to go, right now.

“Oh, you poor thing, these exams can be rather intense,” she replied, her gaze full of pity. “You can leave if you’ve finished, I recommend a rather long nap, and perhaps a trip to the hospital wing for a calming draught” she smiled, and Harry did not hesitate in leaving, grabbing his bag on the way.

He needed to get to the Ministry, but how could he get there? He could fly, but that would take too long, he needed to get there as quickly as possible. He didn’t trust the floo systems in the Gryffindor common room, not since Sirius’ call got interrupted, but perhaps the fireplace in Umbridge’s office would take him to the Ministry without killing him or alerting anyone.

It was a bad plan, but the only plan Harry had. He changed his direction, walking to the Gryffindor common room to retrieve the Marauder’s Map.

“ _Merlin_ on a _dragon_ Harry, wait up!” he heard a voice yell from the end of the corridor. He turned to see Ron and Hermione bounding towards him, looking as if they’d ran around the whole castle.

“What – how did you -?”

“Well Hermione finished the exam _ages_ ago, and just said she had a headache,” Ron interrupted, smiling slightly as he tried to catch his breath. Hermione blushed. “But I said it might be best for someone to escort you to the hospital wing or the common room, just in case.”

“Yes well, we didn’t exactly lie, but that’s beside the point. Harry are you all right, what happened?” Hermione asked. “You just, collapsed and started, well, muttering,” she said, glancing at Ron who nodded to confirm the story.

“It was bloody terrifying mate, especially when you know that’s what your – _You-Know-Who_ – dreams are like,” Ron added, shivering at the thought.

“He has Sirius,” Harry responded, and Ron’s eyes popped out of their sockets as Hermione pursed her lips.

“Harry are you –“

“Honestly ‘Mione, I don’t care because if he does have Sirius, he will kill him and I can’t lose Sirius, not yet – I can’t just – he’s my,” he stumbled over his words, pulling at his hair. “Fuck, Hermione,” Harry yelled, at no one but himself.

“OK, what’s the plan, do you know where he is?” Ron asked softly, knowing how much Sirius means to Harry.

Hermione nodded. “Yes, we can’t head there without a plan.”

Harry took a deep breath, smiling at his friends. “I’m going to go to the Ministry and to do that I need to get into Umbridge’s office, to use the floo.”

“So, we need a distraction?” Hermione added, looking lost in thought as she tried to figure out what would be a decent distraction.

“Perhaps we could – Ginny!” Ron exclaimed as he noticed Ginny, Luna and Neville engaged in conversation, sat on the ledge in front of one of the windows in the corridor. “She still has some of Fred and George’s fireworks, she never leaves the common room without them,” Ron explained, upon seeing Harry and Hermione’s befuddled expressions, running up to his sister.

“And I saw some Nargles the other –“

“Ginny! Tell me you’ve still got the fireworks,” Ron interrupted.

“Bloody hell Ron, why do you need them?” Ginny asked, glaring at him as he had yelled down her ear.

“You can flirt with Luna later, this is important,” Ron insisted, and Luna and Ginny both went pink as Neville glanced between the two, baffled.

“Yeah, I do, but why do you need them?” she asked, now more reluctant to hand them over.

Harry didn’t want to explain the dream, but he did explain that he needed to get into Umbridge’s office to use the floo and to do that, they needed to get her out of her office.

“’Course we can do that,” Ginny grinned, jumping to her feet, and dragging Neville and Luna to theirs. “Anything to fuck with Umbridge.”

“Ginny!” Ron exclaimed at her language and she shrugged.

Harry wished that Umbridge’s office was closer to the History of Magic classroom, and not on the other side of the school. His mind was filled with thoughts about Sirius already being dead. A lot of time had already passed since his dream and every minute standing around doing nothing was another minute of Sirius being tortured to death.

“Potter!” Harry heard someone exclaim as he walked into them, turning the corner. Everyone except the Trio stiffened, poising for a fight.

“Harry, thank _Merlin_ ,” Draco said, noticeably dishevelled, as if he ran here. “When you fell to the floor I – I wanted to leave but she wouldn’t allow it, not after Weasley and Granger. Are you all right, what happened?” he asked, one hand on Harry’s shoulder as the other brushed Harry’s hair from his eyes, resting on Harry’s cheek.

“Why the _fuck_ is Malfoy here?” Ginny asked, still ready to fight Draco at any sign of danger. She hadn’t heard the conversation between the two boys as Draco only spoke loud enough for Harry to hear him.

Ignoring Ginny, Harry leaned into the blond’s touch, shaking his head. “He has Sirius, and I need to – I have to save him,” he said breathlessly, and Draco pulled him into a hug, pressing his lips to the top of Harry’s head.

“ _Seriously_ , what the fuck is going on?” Ginny asked again, looking at Malfoy in incredible distain, as if she wanted nothing more than for him to spontaneously combust as well as bewilderment.

“Gin, we’ll explain but now isn’t –“ Ron began.

“No, no, _why_ in Merlin’s name, is this pretentious git here?” she sneered, her eyes narrowing as Malfoy sighed.

“Outstanding vocabulary Ginevra, I’m impressed you know what that means” Draco replied nonchalantly, turning his attention back to Harry, who was staring at him with a raised eyebrow. “What?”

“Don’t be rude Draco,” he scolded, lightly flicking his forehead.

Draco pouted. “She started it!” he insisted, and Harry rubbed at his temples, not wanting to deal with this right now.

Noticing Harry’s scowl, Draco stiffened and muttered an apology.

As the rest of the group started to argue – Harry hoped Hermione and Ron would be able to explain Draco’s arrival – Harry and Draco continued their own conversation. “Are you sure that what you saw was real? What if this is the plan I overheard? Then –“ Draco paused, and Harry saw the cogs turn in his brain. “How do we know it’s real?” he asked, his eyes searching Harry’s.

Harry hadn’t thought much about whether what he had seen was true just like he hadn’t thought much about a plan; he knew he had to get to the Ministry. Harry certainly hadn’t considered Draco’s warning about links and prophecies and Kreacher.

Then he remembered. “I can check,” he whispered, thinking about the mirror shard in the bottom of his trunk. Harry grasped at Draco’s face and smashed their lips together, as an excited ‘ _thank you’_. “ _Merlin_ Draco, this is why I love you,” he grinned at the blond, unaware of the gaping mouths surrounding them and turned back to his friends.

“Love you too,” Draco muttered appearing slightly dazed.

“Right, so Umbridge can now be plan B, I have a better plan,” Harry announced, walking back in the direction of the Gryffindor tower.

Ron and Ginny continued to argue about Draco’s presence for the entire walk to the tower, and whilst Harry was glad Ron was sticking up for Draco, despite the fact he had never spoken to the Draco Harry knew, the fighting was infuriating. Harry clenched his fists tighter and tighter until…

“Weasley will you shut up before I force you to,” Draco snarled, his head snapping towards Ginny. “I understand your dislike and distrust, I really do, but now is not the time,” he snapped, turning to ignore any further protests she spewed – except she didn’t. Draco’s words seemed to draw her attention to the frown on Harry’s face, and how when he leaned into Draco, lacing their fingers together the frown lessened.

The group half ran, half quick walked to the Gryffindor Tower, and the Portrait Lady reluctantly let Draco and Luna inside. Thankfully, the Common Room was empty and the eight of them clambered up the stairs to the Boy’s Dormitory.

“Mate, how is this going to be helpful?” Ron asked, as Harry began to throw things out of his trunk.

“I hate to agree with Weasley Harry but, how are you planning to check that Sirius _is_ at the Ministry?” Draco asked, placing a hand on the crook of Harry’s back, just as he grabbed the mirror shard, jumping up to sit on his bed.

Without explaining himself, Harry looked at the shard and said, “Sirius Black,” watching as his reflection rippled away into what appeared to be the ceiling of one of the rooms at Grimmauld Place. “Sirius?” he called out, and he called out again when he got no response.

“Master Harry,” Kreacher said, picking up the mirror shard.

“Kreacher!” Harry exclaimed, catching the attention of those in the room with him. “Kreacher, I need to know, is Sirius there?” he asked, holding his breath.

“Master Sirius is not home; he is out sir.” Every word Kreacher spoke made Harry feel sick with dread.

Which was when Draco plucked the mirror from his hand.

“My name is Draco Malfoy,” he said, and Ron chuckled, amused that Draco’s go to in every situation appeared to be to reveal his name. Draco scowled at Ron who instantly flattened his expression. “Son of Narcissa Black,” he said, looking at Ron who suddenly seemed to understand why he said it. Harry watched over Draco’s shoulder as Kreacher stiffened.

“Master Draco,” he squeaked, and Draco sighed.

“Kreacher, tell me the truth. Is my cousin, Sirius Black, at home with you?” Draco asked, and Harry saw Kreacher’s ears flatten as he grimaced, unhappy that he had to do what Draco asked.

“He is home sir,” he mumbled, angry at himself for telling Draco the truth. Harry felt his entire body relax and his eyes sting; Sirius was safe.

Draco let out a sigh of relief too, and everyone in the room seemed to follow suit. “Could you take this mirror shard to him please Kreacher,” he asked, smiling as the house elf nodded and snapped his fingers to apparate.

Ginny’s eyes, as well as Neville's, had widened at Draco’s polite tone because it was directed towards a house elf. Harry could see that Ron and Hermione tried to act unsurprised but they both failed miserably. Luna caught Harry’s attention as she smiled dreamily at the two of them, grinning as she made eye contact with Harry – she was the only one besides Harry who was unsurprised that Draco was not an arsehole.

“Master Sirius has a call, sir,” Kreacher said as he appeared in the same room as Sirius, tossing the mirror shard to the ground, but thankfully Sirius caught it before it landed.

“Harry – oh – Draco, why are you calling, is Harry OK?” Sirius asked, squinting at the shard. This interaction only made the rest of the group more confused – when had Sirius had time to meet Draco?

“This mirror is marvellous,” Draco muttered, clearly already coming up with a list of spells needed to create such an object. “Harry is fine – well… it’s better if he explains it.”

“Sirius?” Harry called out, his voice breaking as Draco handed the shard over to him. “You’re all right? You’re really, all right?” he asked, needing to hear his godfather say it. He could just about hear the rest of the group muttering in the corner as Draco left the bed to give the two a moment.

“Of course I’m safe Cub, why wouldn’t I be?” Sirius asked, trying to sound calm and playful, but his eyes deceived him.

“I had another dream, and you were at the Ministry, but Voldemort was torturing you and – I don’t want you to – I’m glad you’re alive,” he said breathlessly, trying to control his breathing.

“Hey, hey, take a breath Cub,” Sirius said, placing down whatever it was he was holding. “As you can see, I’m not at the Ministry, however that dream…” he muttered, his eyebrows drawing together.

“It was from Voldemort, my scar was hurting,” Harry said, rubbing his fingers over the scar.

“That’s bad,” Sirius stated, and Harry rolled his eyes.

“Thanks, hadn’t figured that out yet,” Harry said, and Sirius ignored the comment, continuing.

“I’ll alert the Order, but Harry, you must stay at Hogwarts all right? You can’t run off to the Ministry just because this trap was set for you,” Sirius said, his eyes scanning Harry’s face as he looked away.

“Only if you promise not to go either,” Harry said stubbornly.

Sirius’ expression darkened slightly. “Harry -” he began.

“Please Sirius,” Harry insisted, his eyes still avoiding Sirius’ own.

They sat in silence for a minute, and Harry watched as Sirius struggled to give Harry the answer he wanted. Harry knew Sirius hated being trapped in Grimmauld place, but he needed to know Sirius was safe.

“I won’t go Cub, if that’ll keep you at Hogwarts,” Sirius sighed reluctantly.

“Thank you,” Harry mumbled, smiling faintly at his Godfather.

Sirius sighed again. “I’ll talk to you later Cub, after I’ve talked to the Order about this, but stay at Hogwarts,” he instructed. “ _Merlin_ knows what Remus would do to me if I let you go to the Ministry by yourself,” he added, talking to himself.


	6. epilogue

“You’ll slip one day Potter,” Harry heard a familiar voice call as he was swinging his legs over the side of the Astronomy Tower. “Don’t expect me to jump after you.”

Harry laughed, not removing his eyes from the horizon as Draco sat next to him. “Wouldn’t want you messing up your hair,” he teased.

“It wouldn’t just mess up my hair, it would make it look worse than yours,” Draco sniffed, linking his fingers with Harry’s.

“Oi!” Harry chuckled, bumping his shoulder with Draco’s.

Draco frowned, lifting a hand to run through Harry’s hair. “It really is atrociously unkept,” he said, leaning into Harry, who blushed. “Have you even heard of a comb?”

Harry glared playfully at Draco. “No,” he deadpanned, and Draco looked shocked for a minute before realising Harry was being sarcastic.

“You’re a right git you know,” Draco drawled.

The two sat in silence, soaking in each other’s presence and the last warm of the setting sun. It was difficult to process everything that had happened over the past few months, but they had been there for each other through it all.

Once Sirius had left to talk to the Order, Harry spent hours pacing the Boy’s Dormitory, waiting to hear from Sirius, from anyone, really. He paced until his feet began to ache, and then paced some more. Draco stayed with Harry when the others left for dinner, trying to persuade him to join them in the Great hall, but Harry refused. He didn’t want to miss Sirius’ call.

Harry tried to persuade Draco to go eat, but he refused to leave Harry by himself – “You’re a hazard Harry, you attract trouble. I’m staying with you.”

He almost cried when he heard Sirius’ voice calling out through the mirror. He felt as if he had walked into the Gryffindor common room, the heat of the fires washing over his body and his shoulders relaxing. Sirius wasn’t alone when he returned, as Remus was sat next to him, looking worse for wear. 

As soon as Sirius called the Order, everyone went straight for the Ministry to apprehend the Death Eaters. Sirius had kept his promise to Harry, despite wanting to join the others, particularly Remus (Harry checked with Remus to see if Sirius was telling the truth - he was). Remus recounted the events that had transpired at the Ministry, explaining that it had been a Prophecy they were after, but Dumbledore refused to share what it was about to anyone other than Harry - "It's best you pay him a visit when you can Cub, he might change his mind on the subject."

Harry felt cold relieve corse through his veins as he heard that no one died. He was also glad to hear that the Order managed to arrest some of the Death Eater who were there. However, when Harry asked who had been arrested, Sirius went rigid and Remus looked somewhat pained. Remus asked if Draco was with him, and Harry watched as Draco stiffened too, looking sickly pale as Harry nodded slowly, piecing it together.

Lucius Malfoy was among those arrested.

In that moment, Draco looked not only pained but also completely unfazed. His face couldn't decide on an expression of how he was feeling. 

He looked like he was about to faint or be sick. 

Harry dropped the mirror and tackled Draco in a hug, hoping that Draco could understand what he was trying to convey; ' _it's ok. You'll be ok'._

Once Draco pulled himself from Harry’s arms, trying to assure Harry he was all right, but Harry knew he wasn't. Harry also knew it was not a subject that he should pry his way into and the best thing he could do for Draco in that moment was let him know he was there. Begrudgingly, Harry returned to Sirius and Remus, however he made sure to keep his fingers entwined with Draco’s.

Remus then said that Voldemort had shown up, expecting to find Harry, but instead finding the Minister for Magic and Dumbledore. Harry took a few seconds to process what Remus had said, but knew that meant only one thing – the Ministry knew Voldemort was back.

And if the Ministry now knew he wasn't lying, then...

Sirius grinned and looked as if he were about to burst, interrupting Remus to explain that this meant that the Minister was reconsidering his case, and that Tonks, Shacklebolt and Remus had managed to get him a trial.

He was going to be a free man.

Which meant Harry could live with them and maybe even be adopted by Sirius.

“When’s Sirius’ trial?” Draco asked, as Harry leaned his head on Draco’s shoulder.

“Next week,” Harry said, smiling. “So, I’m staying at the Burrow for a week, and then, I’ll move to the Black Manor, I think. Sirius hates the place, but I’m not sure if they have anywhere else at the moment.”

Draco hummed, his hand still running through Harry’s hair. “At least you won’t be with those arseholes who _should_ be killed painfully but _I know_ ,” he paused, smiling at Harry who rolled his eyes. “You’ve said I’m not allowed to kill them - which is completely ridiculous.”

“You’re not killing my Aunt and Uncle Draco,” Harry said for what felt like the millionth time.

Draco smirked. “I could make it look like an accident.”

“No,” Harry said again. “No one is killing anyone,” Harry chuckled as Draco sighed dramatically.

“And here I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be fun,” Draco scoffed, and Harry rolled his eyes.

He tilted his head and kissed Draco on the cheek. “I’m fun, I just don’t consider murder fun,” he smiled, and Draco pouted, making Harry chuckle and gently press his lips to Draco’s. “Have you heard from your mother yet?” Harry asked, knowing Draco had been waiting all week for a response.

Draco stiffened slightly, then rubbed the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “I got a letter this morning, after breakfast,” he explained. “She’s staying with a friend of hers in France,” Draco stopped, his fingers tangled in Harry’s hair, unmoving. “She wants me to join her as soon as.”

Harry bolted upright. “Will you go?” he asked. It was after all the safest option. He didn’t like the idea of Draco leaving the country to spend Merlin knows how long away from him, but it would be safe – and far away from Lucius and Voldemort.

“I won't,” Draco whispered, blinking rapidly.

“Why?” Harry asked.

He watched as Draco bit back a laugh. “Harry, I’m known to be quite the reckless idiot now and then,” he smirked, and Harry groaned, remembering the Potion’s incident.

“Maybe after a bit of Befuddlement Draught, but not on a daily basis,” Harry pointed out with a smile.

Draco gnawed on his bottom lip, as if he it would stop him from saying something he would possibly regret. “I –“ he said. “I never actually drank that potion you know,” he cringed, his face turning pink.

Harry’s jaw practically hit the floor. “I – you – it didn’t – what?” he stumbled over his words, watching as Draco looked more and more worried.

“I didn’t know what I would happen, if I’d mention that my father wanted me to take the mark or something, and I panicked. I switched the phials,” Draco explained.

Harry stared at Draco for a moment, watching as a blush creeped up the back of his neck.

Then, Harry burst into laughter, unable to control himself, and Draco relaxed. “You – are – so – fucking – adorable,” he heaved, chuckling as Draco went pink.

“Yes, yes,” he scowled, waving a hand dismissively. “I used the potion as an excuse to have a moment of virtue, but I swear to Salazar Potter, if you tell a single soul –“

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Harry grinned, feeling giddy.

However, after a moment, he frowned.

“Where will you be staying? Are you taking up the Order’s offer?” Harry asked, worried that Draco might have no where besides the Malfoy Manor to go.

Draco shook his head. “As tempting as your Godfather’s offer was, Pansy would berate me with constant letters, so I’ve decided to grace the Parkinson’s with my presence,” he drawled, and Harry rolled his eyes, smiling.

“Will you be safe there?” Harry asked, unsure of the Parkinson’s allegiance to Voldemort.

The blond nodded. “The Parkinson’s are one of the few neutral pureblood families. They refuse to get involved on either side, but they’re willing to overlook that for one summer – they rather like to idea of Pansy and I getting married one day I think,” Draco shook his head, looking completely disgusted by the idea. “ _Obviously_ , she’s not my type,” he explained, looking over at Harry.

“Obviously not,” Harry grinned. “She’d need glasses, I believe,” Harry joked, and Draco laughed.

“I was going along the lines of her being female, but that works too,” Draco grinned. “Anyway, they’ve agreed to let me stay for the summer, and that’s more than I could have asked for.”

“I’ll write to you, and you’ll visit me at Sirius'?” Harry asked pleadingly.

“Of course, you sod, you’ll go spare without me,” Draco smirked, kissing Harry’s cheek. “You’ll trip over everything in a five-foot radius,” he joked, and Harry tried to act offended but part of him knew it was true.

“That only happens around you love,” Harry said, which was partially true. It did happen more around Draco.

“Then I guess I’ll have to catch you,” Draco replied, and Harry grinned. “ _Merlin_ , it’s all fucked isn’t it. This is really happening,” Draco breathed, shivering slightly as he watched a bird fly by.

“It is,” Harry replied, holding Draco tighter. “But we have each other.”

“My father’s in Azkaban, Voldemort is probably after the Malfoy family’s blood, I’m dating his number one enemy,” Draco frowned, and Harry was worried he regretted his choices. “But I wouldn’t change it. Fuck Voldemort,” he said, laughing. “Fuck Voldemort,” he laughed, speaking louder this time. 

It took Harry a moment to realise Draco had said Voldemort and not _You-Know-Who_.

“I’m glad you don’t regret it,” Harry admitted, smiling sheepishly.

Draco furrowed his eyebrows. “I may be scared beyond my wits, but I have faith in you, and _most_ of the Order, I suppose,” he shrugged.

“I’ll keep you safe,” Harry said, determined.

“I’ll keep you safer,” Draco said, smirking as Harry raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll keep you the safest,” Harry retorted, and Draco rolled his eyes.

“I’ll keep you safer than the safest,” he shrugged, and Harry looked bewildered. “Come on Potter, I never back down from a challenge,” he said, his smirk widening into a grin.

“I’ll protect you.”

“And I you, Scarhead.”

“Oh, sod off Ferret Face, I’m trying to be sentimental.”

“As was I you git.”

“Prat.”


End file.
